Brilliant
by Audrey K
Summary: There was never a genius without a tincture of madness.- Aristotle. Gabriella's struggle with her tortured gifted intellect threatens to unhinge both she and Troy's lives. Warning: Dark themes and/or graphic content. On hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer/Author's note: I don't usually post disclaimers, but given the graphic and serious nature involved, it felt negligent on my part to not say a few words.**

**This idea came to me spontaneously and I feel compelled to write about it. Some of the 'reasons' for wanting to explore this type of content are purely out of curiosity to show a side of these characters going against the grain of most (but not all) HSM-related fan fiction.**

**"Depressive disorders affect approximately 18.8 million American adults or about 9.5 -of the U.S. population age 18 and older in a given year." (www.upliftdotcom)**

**Although I have used depression as a means to aide my work of fiction, depression is a _real _disease. If you or someone you know suffers from depression or suicidal thoughts, -please contact the National suicide hotline (Toll free and available 24 hours a day) at 1-800-SUICIDE (2433).**

**I do not own HSM and/or the characters.**

* * *

The ballet was exquisite. Troy watched in suppressed amusement as Gabriella's eyes flickered with joy at the nimble pirouettes, plies, and leaps the agile dancers displayed with silent grace and form.

Against any prior bickering, whining, or complaints the sparkle in her eye- the very smile playfully tugging at the sides of her plump lips made the entire evening worth it.

Their dancer limbs gently swayed and she focused on their faces, enraptured by the look of utter blissful content within their nameless eyes. They were elated. Inside, she found solace at this.

He couldn't help himself, needing to feel her warm skin against his and reached over to grasp her hand.

Her small delicate fingers wrapped around his, squeezing tight in a soundless act of gratitude.

* * *

"Did you see the way they leapt?! And the spins and the turns and the _costumes_- my god the costumes were breathtaking!" she rambled on while unclasping her necklace.

Troy sat at the edge of his bed, tugging off one of his dress socks and loosening the royal blue tie from around his neck.

He chuckled to himself, causing her tirade to abruptly stop as she frowned.

"What's so funny?" she questioned with the faintest hint of sadness emitting from her features.

Looking up in shock, grimacing lightly as he realized yet again he'd expressed something aloud when he'd meant to simply think it, he shot to his feet.

"No! Nothings' funny baby, I was just- I think that…it's just you are so…and" he stuttered.

Cocking her head to the side she looked on in recreation at his stammering.

He took a deep breath, ceasing the incoherent sentences.

"You look so beautiful" he quietly stated, looking up to catch her gaze.

Her demeanor softened as she reveled in his complement for a moment.

Without words, making sure not to break their stare she walked forward until she was flush against his stern body.

The soft slope of her breast pressed seductively against his torso, causing him to involuntarily quiver at the contact.

Smirking, she pressed herself closer to his body, gently lifting up on her tip-toes.

He felt her hot breath against his earlobe.

"Thank you for tonight" she whispered, before capturing his lobe within her mouth, a light suction commencing.

Raw emotion rose through his vocal chords, spilling forth in the form of a low, hungry growl deeply resided in the back of his throat.

Flattening her feet back against the soft confines of the carpet, Gabriella stared into his eyes, a dark tornado taking place within their reflection as he watched her deliberately unbutton the front of her satin gown.

He felt his breath hitch as she gently unfastened the last of her dress, allowing the folds and tucks of silky satin and frothy chiffon to pool around her feet leaving her completely nude and on display for his heavy-lidded eyes to take in.

Without hesitation, he pulled her petite figure into his grasp, fingers slightly digging into her hips as their lips connected in a heated kiss.

When the need for air became a must, they noisily pried their lips from one another, panting momentarily before re-connecting their mouths.

Troy walked backwards, his hold on her curves not faltering as he made his way toward the bed. Feeling the plush surface tap against his calves, he lowered himself onto the bed, taking her with him so she lay across his hard body.

His hands roamed wildly through her silken long dark strands of hair, the contours of her back, creeping down at a dangerously slow pace to her softly ample backside which he grabbed earnestly, eliciting a slightly muffled moan from her, given their pre-occupied tongues grazing ravenously against one another.

Her small hands hastily pried open his dress shirt, discarding of it with little concern onto the floor.

She moved down his body, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses down his neck, torso, lingering across his firm abs, worshiping his toned and muscular mid-section with attentive care.

Gabriella smiled against his flesh, hearing another guttural moan escape from his lips. Swiftly, she unzipped his trousers, anticipating what lay within. As she gripped the edges of the fabric, she hooked her thumbs into the black spandex waistband of his boxer briefs, taking them in stride, depantsing him in one fluid movement, allowing him to kick off the offending garments once they nestled against his ankles.

Leisurely her figure made it's way back up his athletic legs, making sure to drag her fingertips across his thighs.

Finally reaching her destination, her tongue flicked out, licking the head, causing his back to arch off the bed as he cursed, moaning her name in conjunction with the newfound sensations.

"Fuck… Gabi…"

Greedily, she lowered her head, flexing her jaw and mouth to mold around his thick member.

Her need for him was insatiable, desperate even.

Famish like no other took hold of her being as she dipped her head, mercilessly savoring the feel of his heavy sex within the warm confines of her mouth.

Desire hit them both like a lightening bolt, awakening a passion that burned in the pit of their stomachs. The belly of the beast raged on as she continued her torturously pleasurable maelstroms, drunk in the very scent of him.

Gasping, Troy begged her to stop the slow torment.

"Gab… s-st-stop" he barely managed to croak.

With a tantalizing pop, she let him go. He pulled her up his chest, mashing his lips against hers the moment her face appeared before his.

The flavor of him disintegrated as their embrace tightened, on setting a series of starved kisses.

His length pressed against her inner thigh, grazing and teasing her already wet mound.

Troy flipped their bodies so he now hovered over her tanned form, taking in the full sight of the woman he loved.

In a state of awe he spoke.

"I love you" he whispered in a husky voice.

"Show me" she challenged.

Those two words snapped whatever restrain he'd held thus far. He positioned his member over her essence and began to make his way inch by inch further into the deepest, most intimate nook of her body.

A satisfied moan from both radiated across the dark room as their bodies became one. He hissed when she wrapped her legs around his back, crossing them just above his firm buttocks, pulling him deeper, sinking his manhood into the contours of her folds.

He rode her body, pounding into her over and again. His hips swiveled hitting several sensitive spots, causing her muscles to clamp over his member, lavishly milking him.

Need became craving.

Craving melted into something more- urgency.

Gabriella welcomed each of his thrusts, responding with a grinding upward gyration of her hips, meeting each relentless drive as Troy's strained breath heaved against her neck, urging her to increase the friction, digging her short nails into the bronzed flesh of his back, maneuvering her body in such a way to seek out that ravishing release which she so desired.

Troy felt the familiar rousing of his orgasm approach, holding back the coveted liberation. He needed to know she needed him and only him.

Gently placing his fingers against her soft cheek, he turned her head, ceasing her back and forth writhing.

"Tell me you need me" he demanded in a hushed whisper.

Her brain was a congealed mess of thoughts. Nothing was coherent. All sensations were alert and heightened.

Troy slipped a hand between their bodies, pressing his thumb against the bud of her pleasure.

"Tell me Brie, say it. Say you need me."

She struggled to open her mouth, feeling her body work against her as she succumbed to sheer lust.

"I need you" she whimpered.

Plunging deeper, he spoke again.

"Tell me. Say it's me that you need" he coaxed her.

"Troy, I need you" came her breathy reply.

Her eyes shot open, golden amber locking with sapphire blue and Troy arched, fighting against the delightful pain in his lower back. He stroked her clit with fervor, feeling the slick ride of his penis penetrating her.

Her mouth opened, a silent scream taking hold as her body began to shake.

Troy's vision blurred with little flickers of white light sprinkling across his vision. The sight of her unraveling within his arms was his end.

Their limp bodies fell against the damp sheets, a thick exhaustion permeating the air.

"I love you…" came his far-away voice as he wrapped an arm around her sleek hips, pulling her backside toward him, breathing in her scent and committing this moment to memory.

All was silent as a serene calm blanketed their minds.

* * *

Heavy.

It's how not only his limp arm carelessly strewn across her side but also her heart and mind felt.

Gabriella sighed in deep frustration. Sleep just would not come to her. She'd tried in vain to synch her breathing with Troys' in a bid that the methodic duet of their commingled breaths would lull her into a restful slumber.

She peered down at his arm, feeling the weight pressing her further into the mattress.

'_Don't do it.'_

Her eyes gazed out the window, an emotionless expression on her face as she looked at the infinite sky. She wanted to feel weightless.

Troy's arm crushed her, cutting off her air supply. She was sinking, he was suffocating her.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a few deep breaths and recited poetry, quotes, anything her bright mind could latch onto. Newton. Newton's Three Laws of Motion. That could help this overwhelming sensation.

'_Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.'_

She felt the sting of tears stabbing the back of her eyes, blinking back the inevitable.

'_Don't do it.'_

'_The relationship between an object's mass m, its acceleration a, and the applied force F is F ma.'_

Her palms were sweaty and her breath came in shallow gasps. She needed air.

Looking at Troy's arm in slight horror, she gently moved the hefty limb from around her, sighing immediately at the loss of contact, feeling the mattress plump up once again around her small body. Her side no longer ached from the massive obstruction.

Troy let out a small snort, rotating onto his back.

She quietly rose from the bed, letting the sheets fall from her nude body.

Troy stirred, the absence of her heat causing him to pry one eye open.

"Gabs? What's going on?" he asked, his voice thickly coated with sleep.

"Nothing. I'm just going to take a shower" she quietly resolved, tossing him a genuine smile over her shoulder.

He grinned, nodding his head in agreement.

She could hear his snores resound before gently closing the bathroom door.

* * *

'_Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it.'_

She stood in the dark cold bathroom gripping the edges of the porcelain sink until the whites of her knuckles shown.

Her breathing was labored. All she wanted was a moment's rest from it all.

Just a little sleep.

Her heartbeat raced, thumping wildly in her chest. The iron-glad grip she held was beginning to make her hands tremor, spasming slightly and painfully aching.

With a shaking hand, she tore her fingers from the hard surface and switched the light on.

She didn't want to see the light, but she had to try.

Lazily, she drug herself over to the bathtub and twisted the knobs. The sound of water rushed over her.

She returned to the mirror, gaze down.

Lifting her head , she smirked at the hidden guilt.

Her eyes reflected a hurricane with years of shame, struggle, taunting, self loathing, and unabashed rage.

One breath was all it took for her mood to completely shift. It was like an 'on' and 'off' button at times like this when the root of her problem reared it's ugly head.

The realization of just how empty and alone she felt brought the fragile girl to her knees.

She mourned the loss of her inner strength. It had fled a long time ago. It fucking ran away, taking rationale and her ability to feel along with it. She died a long time ago. It was a comfortable existence of numb she now lived in.

The switch inside turned 'off' and she felt a little better. A small ounce of endurance riddled her body long enough for her to blindly grab at the toilet seat to help her stand upright.

Her hand clumsily brushed against a container filled with cotton balls. The sound of breaking glass was muffled by the lush bathroom mat.

The crystal reflected in her eyes, beckoning her. She tilted her head in a dream-like manner.

'_This glass began as a solitary grain of sand that was meshed up, beaten, and ground into smooth, crystalline clarity. Where was its' beginnings? Was it born on the warm beaches of the French Riviera? How many hands grazed across it's rough surface? It died. Her clumsiness had ended its' course through this life. She could be like this glass'_

The incoherently scattered thoughts raced within her mind, causing her to giggle.

It was all so clear.

Everything, in one beautiful poignant stage made sense.

Thoughts never coursed through her mind quite like this, the rapid sensation of blood pulsing through her veins.

She was alive with startling clarity.

Her small fingers swept across the countertop, the shower curtain. She wanted to experience every sensation, every touch, every feel in these moments.

The bathroom was now foggy, a heavy mist circling her body. She leaned over and drew a heart at the center of the mirror.

With that, she gracefully made her way to the tub.

She was so angelically serene in that moment.

'_Do it.'_

* * *

Troy stirred, a smile tugging at the sides of his mouth as he rolled over to engulf the incredible woman at his side within his arms once again.

He frowned noticing she was gone.

Sleep still clouded his mind and he rubbed his eyes momentarily.

Was that the bathtub still running?

"Gabriella?" he called, sitting up on his elbows.

He looked around the room, wondering if she was simply enjoying a long bath, not wanting to disturb her.

The sound of splashing water snapped his attention to the closed bathroom door.

Throwing off the covers he made his way to the door and rapped against it.

"Gabi, c'mon. Everything all right?"

The noise of overflowing fluid hit his ears.

Sleepy blue snapped to a dark navy as he reacted.

Upon opening the door, a billow of hot mist hit him full-on.

He took several deep breaths, adjusting his body to the change in temperature.

His eyes fell upon the mirror directly in front of him and he smiled to himself.

There was the doodle she'd drawn. Through the fog he saw her heart.

Rubbing the back of his neck, silently chastising himself for being so worried, his thoughts were harshly interrupted as a scalding hot liquid hit his feet causing him to leap backwards onto the carpet.

Cursing bitterly, his stomach sank.

Something was wrong.

Sprinting back into the mist-filled room, he stepped gingerly to the left and turned around to face the tub.

Her head was tilted back, the golden hued mask absent from her color, making way toward a pale exterior. The bathroom water ran freely and the sight of a pink substance oozing into the scalding water physically made him ill.

"**GABRIELLA!" **he bellowed, crashing to his knees as he lunged forward, bringing her lifeless head toward his chest.

"Baby… wake up…" he pleaded, gripping emotion clogging his chest, making it hard for him to speak.

He checked her scalp, trying to assess where the source of blood came from. He grabbed both sides of her head and pressed her lips to his ear. Gabriella's motionless body lay against his, the breath with which gave her the voice to sing, the source to rattle off speeches exhibiting her genius was no longer.

Letting lose another roar of anguish, he furiously twisted the knobs, shutting off the water.

Pushing her lips against his ear once more, yearning for even the faintest intake of breath to escape from the still rosy pink lips, he listened.

* * *

**Author's note:**

**I have not yet decided if this is a story I will go further with. I am trying to respect the issue of depression as much as possible while I tackle this subject. If you could just let me know your thoughts, I'd appreciate it!**

**xo,**

**Audrey**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: Graphic/disturbing content. _**

**_I hurt myself today  
To see if I still feel  
I focus on the pain  
the only thing that's real  
The needle tears a hole  
the old familiar sting  
try to kill it all away  
but I remember everything_**

**_What have I become?  
My sweetest friend  
Everyone I know  
goes away in the end_**

**_-Nine Inch Nails "Hurt"_**

"Oh God… Gabriella…" he frantically murmured cradling the heaviness of her head within his grasp.

A faint, raspy breath of air fell upon his earlobe.

Acting fast, he thrust both hands into the water-filled porcelain, grasping firmly to her side and thigh as he hoisted her out of the tub .

Making sure to tread as lightly as possible, given the water soaked floor, he broke into a full on sprint once he reached the carpet.

Kneeling, he gently placed her petite frame on the ground.

Crimson.

Everywhere.

He felt queasy at the amount of blood.

The dark liquid smeared across her forearms, dripping dangerously from her bloodied wrists, oozing from the jagged flaps of torn skin, leaking onto the soft cream carpet.

The water gathered on her body did not help the sickening sight, mixing in with the gore staining her golden flesh.

He panicked.

His breath hitched and his mind went blank.

Gasping, chest clenching, his gaze bore into the horrific scene before him.

The sight of the scarlet red seeping into the carpet kicked his instincts into high gear.

He needed to react, not just sit there.

Reaching behind him blindly, his fingertips connected with the stiff cotton of his dress shirt that had been discarded on the floor earlier.

He gripped the fabric between his hands, tearing the sleeves off.

Grabbing the red wetness of her wrists firmly, he nestled the lifeless limb in between his thighs, tightly winding the sleeve around, making sure to tie off the end securely as possible.

Flicking wet strands of hair from his eyes with a severe toss of his head, he focused the same maelstroms on her other wrist.

Hastily, he crawled toward the nightstand, ripping the telephone off it's charger.

Hands shaking, he dialed the three memorized digits, not quite believing he'd ever have to make this sort of phone call.

There's no way to imagine what it feels like to have to actually dial 9-1-1. It happens in movies or perhaps a friend or two tells a story about "that one time I had to call the paramedics…" but the ending is always promising. The broken bone healed, the wound sealed, whatever problem there had been was always fixed.

There's no understanding for what it feels like and pray to never know.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency? a female voice calmly spoke.

"Hello?! Oh god, I need help, I need… she's bleeding. I don't know what happened. I need someone to get here now."

"Sir, calm down. I'm going to need your address. What is your location?"

"What? Yeah, 755 North Vincent Drive, apartment number 5. Please, she's not awake. I don't know what to do" he whimpered, nestling the phone between his ear and desperately trying to rouse her.

"Gabi… wake up. GABI! GABI!" he hysterically shrieked.

"Sir, what happened? I need for you to calm down and tell me what's going on. I've sent a request for an ambulance. There's help on the way."

"My girlfriend, she just… I found her in the tub. She's not breathing, I don't know what happened. She's bleeding." he sputtered.

"Where is she bleeding from?"

"Her wrists!" he shouted "It looks like she cut herself on something, I don't know what's going on! Gabriella, wake up baby!" he shouted.

"Sir, I need for you to try and contain the bleeding-"

"I already did that! I ripped a shirt and bandaged her up as best as I could. I need for someone to get here now" he pleaded.

"Is she breathing?"

"I don't know!"

"I need for you to check."

He bent over, putting his head against her mouth.

Nothing.

"I don't hear anything, please help. She's not breathing."

"Is there anything blocking her airways? Using one or two fingers, swipe inside her mouth to check for any foreign objects."

He crammed two slender fingers into the warmth of her mouth, brushing across her tongue and sweeping inside the crevices, peering quickly down her throat.

"No! There's nothing in her mouth."

"Sir, I need for you to check her pulse. Can you see if she has a heartbeat?"

"Please…please…"

He shoved two fingers under her chin, desperately roaming over her damp skin to feel the familiar gentle vibration of her heartbeat.

"I feel it. Yeah, I can feel her heartbeat."

"Good. Now if I can get you to-"

"Oh God!" he nearly choked.

"Oh no. **NO!**"he bellowed.

"Sir, what's happening? I need you to talk to me."

"Her lips, they're um, I think they're turning blue. Something's wrong" he whispered, a cold chill creeping up his spine, prickling his skin.

"Okay, she's losing oxygen. Do you know how to do CPR?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to need you to put me on speakerphone if you can. Do not hang up. You need to get oxygen to her. You're going to need to perform CPR until the paramedics arrive. Sir, can you do that?"

"Yes."

He flung the phone down, jamming the 'speakerphone' button in haste before positioning himself above her immobile torso.

Crossing his large hands over the curve of her breasts, he began to pump fiercely on her chest.

Immediately, he surged forward, pinching her nostrils together with one hand, the other tilting her head back, opening her mouth with his index finger as he placed his trembling lips firmly over hers and blew forcefully into her mouth.

'_Breathe baby, please just breathe. Live. For me…'_

He leaned back on his heels, repeating the pumping motions of his arms.

"Fuck! C'mon Gabi!" he shouted.

"Sir just keeping doing that. Is she responding at all?"

"No! Where the _fuck_ is the ambulance?"

"They are on their way sir, just keep up with the CPR. I've indicated to the driver that she is not breathing."

Troy heard a loud rapping against the front door.

"Hello? Is everything all right in there? Hello? I live over in number 8 and I heard shouts." a foreign voice called from the hallway.

"I need help!" Troy called, not willing to cease the steady flow of oxygen he was administering.

"I need you to open the door and let me in!" the voice yelled.

"Just break the fucking door down!"

Several loud bangs resounded as the stranger kicked against the door.

The wood rattled against the pounding, finally swinging open.

A middle-aged man, no older than about thirty-five bound into the apartment. He stopped in his tracks as the sight of the young couple before him startled his senses.

The young girls' lips were an unsettling color of blue, a massive amount of blood soaked the carpet surrounding her body.

"God…" he whispered.

"I don't know if I'm doing this right. She's not breathing. I don't know what else to do" Troy revealed before leaning back down once again to blow into her mouth.

"I'll be right back" the neighbor spoke more to himself as he ran from the apartment back towards his unit just two doors down.

Troy leaned back, crying out in anguish at the lingering purplish tint of her plump lips.

'_Breathe god damnit!'_

"FUCK!" he roared. He pressed a hand against her jaw, shaking her head back and forth.

"Gabriella!"

He tapped her cheeks repeatedly.

"Baby wake up!"

"Sir, keep administering-" came the dispatchers far away voice.

He brought himself to his knees, once again drawing together his hands across her chest to push against her lungs.

At that moment the neighbor returned, carrying a green tank.

Troy looked up, confusion creased across his features.

"My grandmothers'. She has a spare, I live with her. This can help, let me" came his firm voice.

"Sir, what's going on?" the woman on the other end of the line questioned.

"I don't know… he has an oxygen tank."

"Good. Administer the oxygen. The ambulance should be there momentarily. They are six blocks away."

Troy lifted Gabriella's head to allow the man to snugly slip the green elastic behind her matted curls.

Positioning the mask over his mouth, he wrenched the knob to the right, a light hissing sound emitting as he did so.

Troy watched in nervous excitement, his stare unfaltering from her blue lips.

The two waited a few moments.

"I…I think it's working?" Troy hesitantly whispered.

He pressed his palm down to her chest, flinching as if burned when he felt her ribcage very quickly surge upward.

"I think it's working" he stated more firmly.

Sirens sounded from far away, growing closer in mere seconds.

It was music to his ears.

"They're here" he sighed, a wave of short-lived relief coming to his soul.

"Sir, stay on the phone with me until the paramedics are on the scene."

He looked down at her petite frame, a pang of deeply seeded despair tugging at his insides. How was this his life? She and him had a happy life. She was happy- _they_ were happy.

Right?

'_Why is this happening- **what **exactly happened?' _he thought to himself.

A flurry of uniform-clad bodies, emergency kits opening and closing, and a frazzled shuffle ensued. Troy felt a stern arm clamp down on his shoulder, lifting him up.

"Sir, what is your name?" a paramedic asked him, clicking his pen cap to jot down notes.

"Troy Bolton" his emotionless voice replied.

He winced, watching as a small amount of blood trickled down her forearm as an IV was inserted into a vein in her right arm.

"What's the name of the victim?"

'_Victim?!'_

"Gabriella Montez…" his voice trailed off.

"What's her age?"

"23."

"Height?"

"5'2."

"Approximate weight?"

"I don't know, 105? She's small…"

"Ethnic background?"

"Uh, she's half Filipino, half white" he mumbled as a bright white haze fogged his mind as a result of all the movement around him.

"Does she have any allergies to medications?"

"I don't know…"

"Would you happen to know her blood type?"

"I-I don't know" his cheeks grew warm with frustration. He needed to just sit, to take it all in, to see her breathing. He barely understood what was going on let alone felt capable of answering questions pertaining to her medical history.

"Your call came through to the dispatcher at 11:52pm. What time would you say you found her?"

His last grain of patience snapped.

"I don't fucking know! Why are you asking all these questions? She's barely breathing-" his voice cracked, noticing her nude form as they lifted her unresponsive body atop the awaiting gurney.

A flash of protective nature swept over him watching her weakened body dangle helplessly in the air as they situated her, strapping her legs and arms into the various Velcro straps.

"Can you please just put a god damn sheet over her, Jesus!" he hissed.

"Sir, we are here to help. No one is looking at her in that manner. Please calm down" a man about Troy's age insisted.

Troy met his gaze, eyes begging in a silent plea to cover her body more than the flimsy sheet draped carelessly around her lower torso.

Sighing, the man glanced around, noticing a sweatshirt hanging on the doorknob. He lay it over her chest, tucking the bulky fabric under her sides.

"We're going to take care of her. The best thing you can do is stay calm for her, okay?" he gently pressed.

Troy moved his head up and down.

"We'll have the doctors ask you some more questions once we get her to the hospital" the man standing before him announced.

Troy nodded once more, eyes focused intently on Gabriella. Her lips were starting to look a little more flush.

His heart leapt, if only momentarily.

"This is Tony, we're moving the victim" a dark haired man spoke into his walkie talkie.

Troy walked briskly after the gurney, feeling the sting in the backs of his eyes beginning to well as three paramedics lifted the metal frame, lowering it down the staircase.

"I'm her boyfriend, can I come with her?" Troy asserted to one of the men helping wheel her into the back of the ambulance.

He nodded his head, indicating for Troy to get in.

"Troy!" a male voice yelled out.

Looking up he noticed the neighbor.

He helped them. He helped when he didn't have to.

They never got past the exchange of simple hello's in the elevators and regardless he had been of great help with no questions asked.

The man looked down, rolling Troy's pants he held tighter, making sure the wallet, cell phone, and flip flops he had grabbed from the kitchen table and front door would not fall out and tossed the bundle at him.

"You'll need these!"

Utterly overwhelmed, Troy said the only two words he could think of.

"Thank You."

The man nodded.

With that, the sirens blared and the doors slammed shut.

* * *

"We have a twenty-three year old Filipino female with deep lacerations on both wrists, loss of consciousness. Injuries perhaps self inflicted" the younger of the two paramedics rattled off into his walkie talkie.

"Wait, did you say self inflicted?" Troy leaned forward, wanting to make sure he hadn't heard wrong.

"No, no that's not right. She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't do that…" his voice trailed off, shaking his head furiously in disbelief.

The man did not change his stern gaze.

"She wouldn't _fucking_ doing that!" Troy spat.

"Sir, I think you should put your clothes on and stay calm. We'll have her to the hospital shortly. The doctors will probably want to talk to you a little more once we're there" he firmly resolved.

Nostrils flaring, Troy leaned back, attempting to allow his breath to relax as his chest heaved up and down.

Unfolding the tight bundle, he stepped into the same black trousers he'd worn at the ballet earlier.

"She's gonna be all right isn't she?" he asked, slipping his arms into the plain white t-shirt and easing the tan flip flops over his feet.

"She's breathing" is all the paramedic responded with.

Cursing softly to himself Troy stirred, noticing his phone was blinking.

He rabidly text messaged his best friend Chad before shutting off the phone and sliding it into his pocket.

Under pain stricken hooded eyes he curled his hand against her moist tendrils, rubbing her still form, his gaze shifting to the heart monitor pulsating up and down, latching onto the shrill beeps indicating that she was not gone. She lived.

* * *

The ambulance came to a halt just outside the emergency doors.

Gabriella was wheeled out of the truck and set down on the sidewalk.

Troy jumped out of the back of the car, keeping in stride next to the small cluster of nurses dressed in light blue scrubs that came outside to retrieve her.

"Deep lacerations to both forearms, possible severing of the left forearm radial, constrained upper respiratory function" a nurse called out, reading the paramedics' chart she'd been handed off.

"How long?" an older woman, the doctor Troy assumed, asked.

"Says approximately six minutes while the ambulance arrived. Dispatcher 546 called it in after the initial call was made at 11:52pm"

"All right people, that means we may have possible post anoxic brain injury. I'm not calling it yet. Somebody get me an OR ready-now!" the doctor barked out, sending several nurses scattering.

A look of bewilderment masked Troy's face.

"Do we have an anesthesiologist in there?"

His head whipped around, trying to follow the conversation as they bound down the halls.

"We're ready, this way. Dr. Wilcox has been paged."

"Sir, you are?" the doctor suddenly directed her attention toward him.

Troy skidded, tripping over his feet slightly.

"I'm her boyfriend. Is she going to be all right? What is going on? There's a severed artery, what does that mean, is she still bleeding, I-"

"We have her prepped for surgery. We need to stop the bleeding and get her heartbeat back to normal and keep her breathing on her own."

Troy made a movement to follow the gurney that was being wheeled away.

"Sir, this is as far as you may go. I will speak with you as soon as we've got her out of surgery."

"You're taking her into surgery? She's going to have a _surgery_? Right now?"

"We need to stop the bleeding."

"O-Okay" Troy let out a shaky breath he'd unconsciously been holding in.

"We're going to do everything in our power to make sure she's okay."

"Gabriella."

"Excuse me?"

"Her name is Gabriella" he mustered up a bit more confidence at the sound of her name passing through his lips.

The doctor's features softened a bit.

"Gabriella's in good hands. You need to go to the waiting room now."

"Okay" Troy nodded, watching through the circular windows of the swinging door until the long white gurney rounded the corner and was out of sight.

* * *

An hour had passed, then two and Troy was beginning to grow even more concerned at the current state Gabriella was in.

What if they didn't stop the bleeding?

What if she didn't wake up?

What if…

What if…

He blinked hard, gripping his head viciously within both hands, not able to bring himself to think those dark thoughts. She had to live. She had to wake up.

'_Please…'_

The sound of footsteps shuffling in his direction broke his concentration. The doctor from earlier was making her way toward him and Troy immediately rose to his feet.

"Is she-" he began.

"We stopped the bleeding. Luckily she did not severe any arteries. Just a few more centimeters though and we'd be having a very different conversation."

This information gave him comfort.

"Dr. Susan Johnson" the woman offered her hand to him.

"Troy Bolton."

"Mr. Bolton-"

"Call me Troy, please."

"Our head orthopaedic surgeon Dr. Wilcox was able to suture the wounds closed. Her blood pressure looks steady, and she's able to breathe on her own, but I've decided to have her put on a respirator just in case, for the time being."

Troy nodded his head in agreement, taking in all the information.

He noticed her demeanor shift. It made him weary.

"Troy, Ms. Montez suffered severe bleeding this evening due to some very deep lacerations. We found several pieces of glass embedded into the wounds…"

"What are you saying?"

"Troy, we're classifying her case as an attempted suicide."

"What?"

"We believe the wounds, given their locale and the means in which they were executed were of an intentional nature."

His mouth went dry.

"I don't…no. No, that can't be right" he muttered to himself.

"I realize this is a difficult time for you right now but is there anything you feel has happened to Ms. Montez in the past few weeks or months that could trigger anything like this?"

"No…"

"No termination of a job, an ill family member, something traumatic that perhaps occurred?"

"No. I mean, she's a grad student. She's extremely bright. She's studying business. We went to the ballet last night…"

_She was happy, right? He made her happy didn't he? _

"Legally, our practice has to hold her for a minimum of 72 hours under supervised suicide watch. State laws mandate this clause when our team responds to an injury that has occurred regarding victims of apparent self inflicted wounds."

Dr. Johnson was waiting for Troy to relax, sensing the rigid stance in his form. She motioned for their on-site crisis counselor to make her way over.

"We don't have to talk about all this right now, but I'd like to introduce you to another colleague of mine. This is Dr. Howard."

Troy halfheartedly accepted the smiling blonds' hand in greeting.

"Can I see her?" Troy blurted out.

"She's sedated right now. When she comes to, she's going to be disoriented. It would be best right now if you got something to eat and get some rest. She won't be awake for quite some time" Dr. Johnson replied.

"I'd feel better if I could just see her for a minute."

"You can go see her, but I'll have to request we do not disturb her rest and visit from outside the room."

He nodded his head glumly, walking alongside the two females.

Troy felt himself shrink into his skin. He hated hospitals. The smells, the sounds, the florescent lighting. He focused on keeping his gaze cast downward, not daring to sneak a glance into the rooms, perhaps recoiling back in fear of what he saw.

Their footsteps softened as they approached a bedroom at the end of the hallway.

There she was.

Pale, frail, and hooked up to several different machines.

An iv line extended from each of her hands, attached to plastic bags full of clear liquids.

Her wrists were both wrapped heavily in gauze. A bluish tint resided under her closed eyes.

The wet curls had dried and now lay delicately tucked under her shoulders, several strands spilling out across the white pillowcase like lace against the whitest of snow.

She looked peaceful.

"Troy, I need to make my rounds, but Dr. Howard will stay here. I'll give you an update in the morning on her progress. Get some rest" she reassured before heading in the opposite direction.

His stare did not falter. Watching her breathe was his salvation.

The heavy pounding of sneakers against the floor brought him out of his somber gaze for a moment.

The man in his younger twenties bound toward him, auburn curls bouncing as he sprinted down the hallway.

Upon reaching Troy, he stopped, heaving slightly from the small jog.

The warm chocolate pools stared at the expressionless ocean of his eyes.

No words could express the fear, the concern, the absolute _terror_ of what Troy had just gone through.

Gabriella had tried to take her own life.

She had meant to kill herself while he slept.

She didn't want to be saved.

She wanted to slip away from this life without so much as an explanation as to why.

He thought they were on top of the world- he and the love of his life, and in one evening all his hopes, all his dreams of what they meant to one another was viciously ripped away.

It broke his heart.

Chad stepped forward, extending his arms out to Troy, who engulfed the man in his grasp, burying his face against his shoulder.

Dr. Howard quietly stated she would be available to either of them if needed and left the two young men to themselves.

Chad had been his best friend since age four. They met during a birthday party for a mutual friend and had been inseparable since.

Having both been the only child in their family, they unofficially adopted the other as their brother.

Troy's broad shoulders shook heavily as he let go of his anguish.

* * *

_The two small boys stood back, admiring their work inside the tree house._

"_That's wicked!" Chad grinned devilishly._

"_It's missing something" Troy frowned._

"_No way, it's awesome!"_

_They had spent the bulk majority of their morning painting the walls of the tree house Troy's father had built for him on his sixth birthday._

_As they stood back, eyes roaming over the dark brown walls, Chad returned the sentiment._

"_You're right. It's too pretty."_

"_Yeah. We need something more manly."_

"_Yeah!" Chad exclaimed._

"…_like what?" he resolved, furrowing his brow once again in deep contemplation._

"_How about… I got it! I'll go grab two sticks or something and we can draw on the paint before it dries?" Troy's eyes gleamed with excitement._

"_Awesome!"_

_Troy quickly rushed to the front of the tree house and glanced up, gagging how far up he'd have to climb._

_He scanned the tree, smiling a toothy grin as he spotted the perfect twigs- located just near the top of the tree._

_Balancing his footing, he began to ascend the bark._

"_Be careful…" Chad warned, having joined his friend to watch his endeavors._

"_I'm fine Chad! Don't be such a scared-" his footing faltered, missing the next step as he came sliding down the tree, wincing in pain as his soft hands rubbed mercilessly against the roughness of the bark._

"_Ow!" he cried out._

"_Troy!"_

"_Chad! Gimme your hand!" he yelled, tears already rolling fast down his cheeks._

_Chad grabbed a hold of the tree houses' banister and with his other hand reached out as far as he could._

_Troy mimicked his actions but couldn't reach, returning his arm to cradle the tree._

"_I can't reach you" Troy whimpered._

"_C'mon Troy, just try! Grab my hand."_

_His dark navy blue eyes shown a whirlwind torrent of pain and fear as they connected with his friend. He was scared. Chad's eyes silently told him everything would be all right._

_Taking a deep breath, Troy reached out once more._

_He felt himself tumbling at a fast rate, everything happening too quick for him to even cry out._

_A bone-crushing noise that made him cringe and severe white hot heat rushed up his right arm as he landed unceremoniously onto the muddy grass below._

"_TROY!" he heard Chad yell from somewhere above him._

_He attempted to sit up, a sharp pain hitting him full force._

_He threw back his head and howled in agony._

_Lying on the ground, he writhed in pain, sobbing for his mother as Chad jumped down the rest of the tree's distance._

"_Troy, it's okay. Just hold on. It's all right. I'm gonna go get your mom."_

"_Mrs. Bolton!" he screamed, running as fast as his small legs could carry him toward the screen door._

He'd seen Troy terrified enough to cry this hard only once in all their many years together.

His spirit broke as he held his best friend against his chest realizing that the impact of Gabriella's injuries were infinitely, deeply, and unexplainably worse than their frightening morning seventeen years ago.

The only thing he could do was grasp Troy's shoulders tighter and allow his brother to let go.

**_Author's note:_**

**_This was an extremely hard chapter to write. I do not wish to glorify and/or promote suicide, and chose carefully how I represented this situation. Thank you to those who reviewed Ch.1 and encouraged me to continue forth with this story. _**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: All lyrics used belong to Sarah McLachlan.**_

_**The winter here's cold, and bitter  
It's chilled us to the bone  
We haven't seen the sun for weeks  
To long too far from home  
I feel just like I'm sinking  
And I claw for solid ground  
I'm pulled down by the undertow  
I never thought I could feel so low  
Oh darkness I feel like letting go  
If all of the strength and all of the courage  
Come and lift me from this place  
I know I could love you much better than this  
Full of grace  
Full of grace  
My love**_

_**-Sarah McLachlan "Full of Grace"**_

No longer having tears left to shed, nor feeling as though he had the energy to exert anymore effort into crying, Troy had unclasped his firm grip across Chad's shoulders, allowing his friend to lead him from the dark window of Gabriella's room.

He didn't want to leave her but at the same time he couldn't stomach gazing down upon her weak form any longer.

Each breath she took pulled viciously at his heart. All of this, every dream he'd ever hoped to see bloom into fruition with her by his side had almost not been. Had he not got to her in enough time…

He couldn't go there. Not now.

Chad steered his heavy body toward the waiting room.

"C'mon Troy" he gently offered.

His numb limbs somehow found the strength to carry him toward the relatively empty waiting room.

He sat in the nearest chair he could find and his eyes clouded over instantaneously. Somehow the act of settling brought forth a new wave of fresh tears. Gritting his teeth and slack jawed, he fought the pain.

Chad observed his friend, straining against the hell going on inside his head. He hadn't always been the brightest in school, the fastest on the court, or possessing the most sweeping romantic gestures with the opposite sex, but he did know the effects of withholding feelings. He was infamous for holding back what he felt for fear of being viewed as weak.

That raw emotion would eat away at Troy if he didn't let it go.

"Troy…" his voice broke.

His empty pale blue eyes searched the chocolate iris'. He was trying so hard to stay in control, to not let it in.

'_Fight Troy, be strong for her. Fight it.'_

Chad watched helplessly as a life normally full of joy crumbled. Troy's features scrunched in anguish. He let out a guttural sob and fell against his arm, shaking convulsively as the despair engulfed him once more.

* * *

Taylor had rushed to the hospital as soon as she received Chad's urgent text.

"_Come to St. Peters. NOW. It's Gabi."_

"Jen, I've got to-" she began.

Her chemistry partner looked up, concern aligning her eyes.

"Taylor what's wrong? Are you okay?"

She frantically tore open her satchel, shoving papers into the wrong binders and haphazardly tossing her thick textbooks atop the disarrayed mess.

The erratic behavior scared the red-head.

"Taylor are you-"

"It's Gabi."

Jen gulped. The severity in Taylor's voice let her know right away something was wrong.

"Go. I'll finish here."

"Jen I'm sorry, I'll try to get back as soon as-"

"No. You stay with her. I've got it" she firmly resolved.

"Thank you."

* * *

She clamored through the automatic doors of the emergency room, wide-eyed and frazzled.

Rushing over to the nurse's station, her fingers dug into the granite countertop, the whites of her knuckles shown.

"Gabriella Montez?! She was admitted here earlier."

"M'am, slow down. What did you say the patient's name was?"

Before the vehement tirade she planned on delivering commenced, a familiar deep voice sounded from behind.

"Tay."

Turning, she locked eyes with the man lunging into his arms, startling him a bit with the sheer force. She cried hysterically into his shoulder. The lump he was bitterly starting to detest formed once more in his throat as he held onto his shaken fiancée. Gasping for air she lifted her tear-stained face.

"Where is she? What is going on?!" she begged.

"Gabriella's been admitted to the hospital. Baby, she um-"

"She what?" she demanded, tugging on the collar of his t-shirt, bunching the fabric unmercifully in her hands.

"She had an accident."

He couldn't do it. There was no way he could look the woman he loved in the eyes and tell her that her best friend had tried to take her own life. She wouldn't understand. Hell, _he_ didn't understand!

Her tear-brimmed eyes silently pleaded to say something-_anything_.

"She… tried to um…" he took one last remorseful look at the innocent eyes before he destroyed that glint of hope, ripping her out of this life as she would soon be joining he and Troy in the depths of hell.

"…the hospital is classifying this as an attempted suicide."

"What?" she asked meekly.

"She cut herself. She cut her wrists."

"No."

"Baby, it's going to be-"

"**NO!**" she bellowed, furiously clawing at his chest, slapping at any part of his torso she could reach.

Two nurses stood behind the desk, bracing themselves to call a doctor.

"Taylor."

Her hands stilled, Chad holding firmly to her wrists in a bid to calm her frustration.

Troy stood, red-eyed and a former shell of himself. Since when had he appeared so gaunt? Dark circles kissed the undersides of his eyes. A hollowness permeated his being.

Taylor tore herself from Chad.

"She wouldn't do that" she hissed.

Troy's bottom lip quivered.

"She my best fucking friend! She wouldn't do that, she wouldn't do that, she wouldn't do that-" she latched onto the phrase, chanting the mantra over and again.

A fiery salted droplet rolled down Troy's cheek, followed by another. He watched in agony as the woman unraveled before him.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, shrinking back from his touch.

He ignored her warning, pulling the girl into the confines of his arms, wrapping both arms across her back. He held her even as she wailed for him to stop, to let go, enraged at the whereabouts of her friend.

Soon her defiance subsided and she gave into the sorrow, weeping freely against his chest.

"Oh my God" he heard her muffled voice sniffle. Nestling his head against her coarse dark hair, he shushed her, trying his best to sooth the agony.

Troy opened his eyes, staring hard at Chad who quickly strode forward. Needing no invitation and being met without qualms of distress, he wrapped his arms around the two.

The trio anchored each other, consoling their worry in an overwhelmingly strong act of unwavering friendship.

* * *

**Fifteen minutes later…**

Taylor sighed heavily, allowing her elbows to rest on her knees as she sat forward and asked the question she felt no one could answer.

"What happened?"

Troy ran a hand through his hair, a slight flush appearing across his cheeks. He closed his eyes, a deeply afflicted look draping across his brow.

He remembered the blood. The feel of her listless body flapping carelessly as he ran from the bathroom.

"_Fuck! C'mon Gabi!"_

"_FUCK!"_

"_Baby wake up!"_

"Fuck…" he muttered under his breath.

"Troy, you don't have to do this right now" Chad encouraged.

"No, it's just- there was so much blood, you know?"

Taylor wrapped her arms around herself, feeling goose bumps prickling against her skin.

"We went to the ballet. We were in bed and she said she just wanted to take a shower and I fucking-" his voice cracked.

"…I fucking fell back asleep. When I woke up there was water spilling over the bathtub. By the time I got in there she had already," he stopped, not able to vocalize the scene he'd been met with upon opening the bathroom door.

"Is she awake now?" Taylor questioned.

Troy shook his head solemnly.

"She had surgery earlier" Chad stated.

Several tears tumbled across her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"They closed the wounds and said that she'll be, um, groggy when she wakes up. She might not remem-" Troy swiveled in his chair, turning his back as he cried.

Chad and Taylor glanced forlornly at each other. They waited. Only the stifled sniffs coming from Troy and monotone voice of a news anchor on television sliced across the now empty room.

"Did anyone call her mother?" Taylor pressed a few moments later.

Troy reeled, a look of terror striking his face.

"What do I say to her? I don't know how to do this" he choked.

"If you want, I can call her" Taylor quietly whispered.

"No, I have to tell her. I owe it to Gabriella to do that much." He nodded his head, cementing the idea into his mind. She deserved someone who would protect her. He had failed at that, but the least he could do now was try and make it right by phoning her mother.

Taylor furrowed her brow.

"Troy, this isn't your fault. You had no idea she'd do this. None of us knew she was struggling."

"I know, but I just- if I didn't fucking fall asleep…"

"Dude" Chad's stern voice snapped his head up.

"You couldn't have known. Don't do that to yourself. It's not your fault."

Troy gulped, trying to let their words of reason sink in.

"I'll be right back. I need to call her now."

They stared after him, Chad taking the initiative to intertwine his palm in Taylor's hand.

* * *

This would be the hardest phone call he ever had to make. He was scared to tell her. What if she blamed him? She'd have every right. How do you explain to a parent that their child has been hospitalized? Even worse, they've been admitted for injuries they inflicted upon themselves.

"_We believe the wounds, given their locale and the means in which they were executed were of an intentional nature."_

"Jesus…" he sighed, angrily twisting the dark caramel strands of his locks in a tight grasp.

"_Now…"_

Carefully, he pressed in the two coded numbers of his speed-dial. He hit the 'send' button and waited.

"_Hello?! Oh god, I need help, I need… she's bleeding. I don't know what happened. I need someone to get here now."_

"_Gabi… wake up. GABI! GABI!"_

"_Oh God!"_

He winced, trying to repress the upsetting memories.

"Hello?" came a female voice, thickly laced with sleep.

"Hello? Ms. Montez?"

"Who is this? What time is it?"

"It's Troy, I'm _so_ sorry to be calling so early but-"

She sat up straight, chest clenching in anxiety.

'_Mija.'_

"Troy what happened? Is Gabriella all right?"

He blinked back tears, resting his head against the wall. He couldn't breathe. The familiar wetness dripped down his cheeks and he sucked in a deep breath.

"Th-that's um" he stuttered badly, visibly shaking.

With patience and comfort of grace, she waited to hear what he'd say.

'_Please. **Please** don't take my baby from me. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son…'_

Grappling with his own burden, he took in several more deep breaths, his unsteady hand bracing himself against the cool wall.

"That's what I'm calling about. Gabriella is in the hospital."

"What happened?" her voice somehow remained level.

"She cut herself. She cut her wrists tonight."

"Oh God…"

"We're at St. Peters now. I called 9-1-1 and an ambulance brought us here. She had surgery to close the wounds. She-" he felt his breath hitch.

"She's still asleep. I called you as soon as I could" he finally settled upon, feeling downright drained from the conversation. The will to go on voicing what happened escaped him.

"I'll be there shortly. Troy?"

"Yes m'am?"

"Thank you."

He went to answer, to utter some sort of response and he simply couldn't find the words. Why was she thanking him? He'd fallen asleep. He wasn't there for her. He-

"Thank you for saving my baby. I'll see you soon" her angelic voice cut through his demise.

Throwing the sheets off her body, she focused on the simple wooden cross hanging on the wall opposite her bedroom.

Although shaken, her little girl was alive. Immense feelings of thanks filled her heart.

'_In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.'_

* * *

Troy tried to avert his gaze anywhere but on Dr. Johnson and Ms. Montez who had arrived mere minutes after he'd called her.

They had been talking for quite some time now. At some point, Chad had placed a piping hot cup of black coffee into his hands.

"Thanks…" he mumbled.

He grimaced while sipping the pungent liquid. He hated coffee but found no might to voice any complaints. He took another slow swig and cast a side-ward glance at the duo still deeply enrooted in an apparently informative conversation.

"Troy?"

"Mm?"

With sad eyes Taylor looked uneasy.

"I'm going to call a few people. Just Shar and the gang."

The 'gang' consisted of their tight-knit group from high school, tallying a total of ten-as it had been from the beginning. Sometimes a boyfriend or girlfriend would come and go, Kelsi and Jason were actually married, but the head count firmly stood at ten.

Ten harmonious souls, containing different backgrounds, but the common friendships and unfaltering reliability held them together through all their triumphant ups and downs.

No matter what, they stuck together. The 'gang' was now just as important a part of his life as his immediate family. They regarded one another as brothers and sisters.

"What do you want me to tell them?"

He looked at her with some confusion. No matter how difficult things got, they had promised one another years ago one solid pact that they'd all vowed never to break.

The truth. Always.

"The truth Tay. Tell them the truth."

An infinitely small glimmer of a smile characterized her lips.

"I'll be right back" she politely announced, heading outside to make a series of undoubtedly unnerving phone calls.

"How are you holding up?" Chad asked.

Troy shrugged.

"You want anything?"

He shook his head.

"Boys?"

Chad and Troy straightened at the sound of Ms. Montez calling out to them.

"Gabriella is stable. She'll be here for several days. The doctors have to monitor her" she wrung her hands as she spoke.

Troy stood, offering his arm to help seat the visibly rattled woman.

Appreciating his tenderness, she accepted the gesture, easing herself into a chair beside the two young men.

"Gabriella is sick."

Troy blinked hard several times. His heart couldn't take anymore surprising revelations. He felt about ready to burst at the seams.

"Sick? Chad inquired.

"She has suffered from depression for awhile,"

"since we began moving" she added, noticing Troy's mouth open to object.

"She was about eleven the first time we moved. I thought it was just growing pains- temperamental teen angst."

"Her seventh grade guidance counselor suggested counseling for her to have someone to voice her problems to. It was good for her. She was responding well."

Troy stirred. _Was_ good for her? _Was_ responding well? Had she stopped seeking counsel in high school? Did the treatment quit working?

Feeling their eyes weighing down on her, Ms. Montez continued.

"Even now, Gabriella has been seeing someone twice a week. She didn't show up this week. Her doctor called and I-"

Her eyes watered.

"I didn't know. I called her to ask why she didn't go and she said she had midterms. I know how important school is to her, so I didn't… I just didn't…" pulling a handkerchief from her coat pocket, she quietly wept into the silken fabric.

Chad's eyes were downcast, whether out of shame in not knowing anything was wrong or shock, he refused to look up at anyone.

Troy's chest heaved. He was angry. How did he not know she'd been seeing a therapist? Or was it a psychologist? He didn't even know what fucking _kind_ of doctor she went to! His nostrils flared as his head and heart battled an internal war against one another.

"Troy, I'm so sorry. She had me promise not to tell you -"

"or her new friends" she noted, nodding her head in Chad's direction.

"She already felt so different with all the honors classes and awards. She didn't want to feel any more alienated. She was _so_ happy once we got her enrolled at East High. I can't remember seeing her that excited in a long time" she sighed.

Troy rose to his feet. He needed the negative energy swallowing him whole to lessen, somehow making it easier for him to exist.

He needed her.

"I need to go for a walk and think."

Without waiting for a reply, he began the long trek toward a murky-looking future.

* * *

He had marched directly toward her room. She filled his spirit, her scent flooded his senses, her kiss ghosted across his lips.

His thirst for her is what helped one foot step in front of the other, the magnetic force of their love causing his body to react unquestioningly.

_**Spend all your time waiting  
For that second chance  
For a break that would make it okay  
There's always one reason**_

_**To feel not good enough**_

Once inside her room, he made his way to the darkened corner near the window. Dawn was just breaking. The hint of light mocked the demonic events he'd just gone through several hours prior.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

_**And it's hard at the end of the day  
I need some distraction  
Oh beautiful release**_

She had been happy, or so he thought. His sadness brought him to his knees, cradling his legs against his body, watching through intensely hooded eyes as she slept.

Did she know just how much he loved her? He'd lay down his life for her, take a bullet, step in front of a bus- she didn't have to ask. He'd smile down on her from heaven knowing she was safe. It's all he ever wanted for her- peace and happiness.

Why hadn't she just talked to him? He would have listened.

He bent his head down and grieved for all the terror and worry he felt. As Troy lost himself to despondency, the heart monitor beeped with more fervor.

He lifted his head, listening to the increasing chimes. Her small hand gripped at the sheets, involuntarily flexing as slumber faded from her form.

Her sleepy brown eyes groggily opened. Troy's breath caught but he painfully resisted the urge to rush to her side.

He couldn't do it, it would hurt too much to touch her right now.

Her chest rose and fell as she panted, fright taking hold. Where was she? Why was she so sore? She wanted to scream, to cry, to reach out and grab hold of Troy. Troy! Where was he? Why was she alone?

A subdued whimper quietly escaped her as she struggled to connect her surroundings.

Troy sat, waiting for her to calm. Her breathing leveled to a normal pace and she curiously examined the ceiling, walls, and all the various wires she was hooked up to.

She was in the hospital.

A light scuffle in the corner jilted her, causing her eyes to slowly pierce through the darkness. She saw him.

Unadulterated remorse hit her forcibly. She remembered.

**_Memory seeps from my veins  
Let me be empty  
And weightless and maybe  
I'll find some peace tonight_**

The bathtub.

The broken glass.

The running water.

The hopelessness.

The lies.

The brilliant craving to end it all.

His mouth went dry watching her sunken orbs sadden. Their commingled melancholy danced a beautiful duet. The gloom washed over them. Unanswered questions loomed, cruel truths lay ahead that neither of them were certain they wanted to know. What lurked behind those doors she'd never opened? Recovery? More pain? Infinite despair… nothing was certain anymore,

…except their love.

_**In the arms of an angel**_

He still loved her. Against all odds he loved her-and she him.

Large tears slid down her ashen cheeks.

"Why?" he whispered.

That was _**the**_ question.

"I'm sorry" she mouthed, surrendering to her desperation, sobbing in an uncontrollable fit.

_**Fly away from here  
From this dark cold hotel room  
And the endlessness that you fear**_

The sight of her falling once again broke his spirit and he quickly pulled himself to his feet.

At her bedside, he knelt down on bended knee.

His bronzed flesh sought out her golden skin. He softly placed his palm over her hand while she gently eased her fingers between his.

_**You are pulled from the wreckage  
Of your silent reverie  
You're in the arms of the angel  
May you find some comfort here**_

_**-Sarah MacLachlan "Angel"**_

* * *

_**Authors Note:**_

_**I'm not Catholic, so apologies if any of the prayers are not correct- I researched as best I could to get it right. Another tough chapter, but the next entails flashbacks. Troy will begin to see that the signs of Gabriella's depression were present. I will alternate between a his and hers P.O.V. Thanks for the reviews and words of encouragement to continuing writing this story. It's not easy, but I think it's an important disease to be addressed, even on a fanfiction level.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: Movie quote by James Mangold.**_

_**When you don't want to feel, death can seem like a dream. But seeing death, really seeing it, makes dreaming about it fucking ridiculous. Maybe, there's a moment growing up when something peels back... Maybe, maybe, we look for secrets because we can't believe our minds... **_

_**-Girl Interrupted**_

They hadn't spoken a word and he simply remained kneeling by her bedside, gently dragging his thumb across her petite knuckles in a reassuring act to help subconsciously soothe her.

Troy's head snapped up, alert and wide-eyed when he heard the door click open and a nurse making her early morning rounds came into view.

The warm eyes roved over the pair. She was an hour's time from ending a particularly long thirteen hour shift and felt compassion for the young man holding vigil by the young woman's side, remembering him from earlier, recollecting his consoling maelstroms to the hysterical girl, presumably a friend, in the waiting room.

She'd painfully ignored his heartbreaking sobs resounding across the empty waiting room, carefully trying to focus on filling out her charts.

"Good morning."

"…Morning" came his soft reply.

"I know visiting hours are over but-" he began.

She held up a hand, wordlessly communicating that she understood his presence. She was not going to scold him, although she noticed the beginnings of deep purple crescent moons forming under his troubled orbs.

Flipping through several sheets on her chart, she looked over the iv's, taking note of the measurements.

"Were you here all night?" she delved.

He nodded.

"She lost quite a bit of blood and surgery is exhausting, even on the healthiest of individuals. She will be resting here comfortably for a while" she alluded, not wanting her words to come off too forceful.

"I'm fine. I just want to stay with her."

Jotting down several more markings on her lab charts, she clicked her pen shut, staring determinedly at the man.

"You need rest. I've been fairly lenient thus far, but you will be in better shape to wait with her if you go home, rest up, and eat something substantial."

"I'm fine" he repeated, his gaze intently resting upon Gabriella's colorless cheeks.

"Even if you just grab a snack from the hospitals' cafeteria, you need the fresh air. It will do you a world of good."

Troy made no movement to leave.

"…we'll keep good watch over her, and I can _guarantee_ with the ten milligrams of morphine I've just administered, she's going to have a more comfortable rest for at least a few more hours,"

"No more wincing and being startled awake" she adamantly pressed.

In that moment she was giving him a calming kindness that only a mother could deliver.

He nodded his head in agreement, carefully nestling her small palm back onto the warm comforter.

"I am kind of hungry." He attempted to smile, a gesture that was duly noted.

"Something from the cafeteria, like fruit, not the vending machines" she tenderly called out to his retracting backside.

Taking one last fleeting glance at Gabriella's sleeping face, he felt saddened. As peaceful as she looked, as serene and blissfully wrapped in calm as she appeared in that solitary moment- the façade was just an illusion.

* * *

Troy bid a groggy farewell to Chad, Taylor, and Ms. Montez, with the promise-and re-assured vow to immediately call if any sort of development arose during his absence.

Equipped with Chad's car keys which he's graciously offered, Troy set off into the warm embrace of a uncharacteristically warm Chicago autumn morning.

He and Chad had moved to the city together just four years ago, both having accepted offers to play division one basketball for the University of Illinois at Chicago.

It had been a long debate-with Troy going back and forth trying to decide between continuing onward with his basketball career, or moving forward in life alongside the modest girl who had surprised and subsequently completed him halfway through high school.

Gabriella as he'd predicted (and against a conflicted heart, it was what he had truly hoped for) was accepted into the top tier of ivy league schools. She had her pick between Stanford, Brown, and Harvard. Even Taylor has enviously noted Harvard's indecisive wait-list notification of which she'd been placed upon.

_Troy felt her burrow further into his chest and sensed a smile forming across his features as he tightened his hold on her shoulder._

_The two rested cozily against his denim comforter. Her hand aimlessly traced abstract shapes against the grey and black quilt lying across their legs. The quilt was the last gift his nana had made for him before she'd passed on after a four year fight against lung cancer. He'd cried himself to sleep the day of her funeral, refusing to let anyone console him, until Gabriella showed and the two lay together, wrapped within the warm confines of his last remnant of his beloved nana._

_Their position atop his mattress eerily mimicked that painful evening. It was the first time Troy had dealt with a death in his family. _

_Tonight felt like another sort of foreboding lay ahead. As to what, neither was sure._

_They stared at the neatly folded paper, stamped with the bold maroon shield encased within leaves. Troy frowned, wondering what the letters, printed side by side across each of the three open books meant._

_He pointed, mumbling aloud,_

"_What does 'VERITAS' mean?"_

_Stifling a giggle at his ingenious annunciation, she quickly answered. Although nowhere near fluent, she possessed limited conversational Latin skills and could read the language without much struggle-something she'd kept to herself over the years._

"'_VERITAS' is a Latin word. It means truth."_

"_Oh…" _

"_Troy?" _

_He'd barely heard her tiny voice._

"_Mmm?"_

"_Can I be truthful with you?"_

"_Of course. You know you can tell me anything."_

"_I don't want to go."_

"_What? Why? Baby this is Harvard! You don't say no to Harvard. That's like saying no to… to…" he stuttered, trying to think of a good analogy. Falling short of a sweeping statement, he settled upon something much more blunt. "You don't say no to Harvard. It's just not done."_

_He nodded his head with conviction, reaffirming the logic that she shouldn't pass on the school._

"_It's just…Harvard" she sighed, trying to make the institution sound less appealing._

_With his free arm, he wrapped a piece of her hair around his finger, absent-mindedly playing with the strand._

_She rubbed his upper thigh, stroking the firm muscles. Their actions were familiar and loving._

"_I don't want to leave you" her voice quivered._

_He wanted to say something wise-something that would encompass what he felt for her and how deep those feelings resided within his heart and soul. He reached for words of encouragement, ease, and comfort and was met with the sandpapery feel of his rough tongue attempting to lick his even drier lips._

_Life's blessed riches left East High's living, walking, testimonial beacon of good fortune speechless._

_In an act of bravery, he put everything on the line, speaking a truth that could perhaps wind up breaking both their hearts. He spoke for the better half of his brain that screamed 'Don't let her do this!'. _

_Troy was a lot of things and selfish was not one of them. Above all trepidations, he needed her to be what he always knew she was, even against her coy bashfulness and humble aw-shucks dismissals._

_She was gifted._

…_he might lose her._

_She needed to soar._

…_he'd miss her._

_The fork in the road was leading them apart._

_Part of him didn't want to say a word, to cling to her for dear life and admit that he didn't want her to leave either, but he couldn't._

_He wouldn't._

…_because she meant that much._

That night they had decided she would go to Harvard and Troy would become the shining star athlete for the UIC Flames, leading his team to four consecutive NCAA Championships.

Although an evident strain, it had been the best decision for both. Gabriella outshined her classmates, earning her glowing academic recognition amongst her professors. The icing on the cake came in the form of a distinguished, well-coveted apprenticeship under the schools' Collegiate Alumni Chairman.

No matter what their schedules entailed, no matter how busy they became, holidays were sacred ground, never to be touched and always spent at home, together, in Albuquerque.

Now twenty-three and in his last semester at UIC, Troy was tirelessly working his team into shape for the last time.

In an act that pleasantly shocked everyone, Gabriella graduated in just three years and

was in the second half of her first year at Northwestern's School of Business in Naperville, which meant they now only lived roughly thirty minutes from one another .

Troy fished the keys to Chad's Explorer out of his pocket, unlocking the doors to the large black SUV.

As he adjusted the mirrors and backed out of the parking spot, his mind quickly slipped to the prior evening.

Worry never poisoned his thoughts quite like this before. Just when he felt his world was starting to make sense and that _maybe_, just maybe, he was truly growing into the man his parents raised him to be and that he needed to subsist for Gabriella- he had been knocked down and now felt like a small, scared little boy, clueless to the world around him.

* * *

_He opened the door to his apartment, jingling the lock a little before entering his residence._

"_Hey…" came her soft voice._

"_Hey you! I didn't know you were coming over already" he exclaimed, genuinely happy to have her presence in his home._

"_It's Thursday, no classes. I just had to go into work for a bit. They let me go early so I figured…' her voice trailed off as she lifted the spare key he'd made for her and smiled coyly._

"_Aren't I lucky?" he teased, setting down his book bag on the couch, casually sidling up to her and nestling his strong hands into the familiar contours of her waist._

_The puzzle pieces of their flesh fit perfectly. It always had._

"_Don't you forget it" she whispered, her glossy lips inches from his._

"_I won't."_

_She made a sound of approval in the back of her throat before their lips connected. _

_Their mouths opened simultaneously, no need for permission to deepen the kiss as their bodies spoke desirous communication to one another._

_Troy firmly held her neck, bending his head down, needing to feel just that little inch more of her delectable mouth._

_Pulling back, her brow wrinkled noticing the wistful look in his eye._

"_What?" she smiled._

"_I've got something for you. For tonight. "_

"_More than dinner? What are you up to mister?" she chuckled._

_Quickly he strode over to his bag, nonchalantly sliding the pair of tickets into his back pocket knowing she was watching him._

_Once he was standing back in front of her, he reached behind him revealing two tickets._

_The proud grin on his face couldn't get any wider._

"_I know you wanted to go, so after dinner tonight we're going to the show."_

_A cloud appeared. The uneasiness she struggled to conceal crept icily upon her backbone. Everything was caving in as her mind forgot the loving man in front of her and gave way to the deeply resided sadness. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, biting the soft flesh harshly. She wanted to scream. _

_Instead, she gave a forced smile. She swore she'd noticed the slight falter in Troy's smile, the hint of concern draped across his features. _

_Pulling from an unknown source of inner strength, her beam brightened._

"_They're tickets" she whispered._

"_Yeah, for the ballet." His jubilant mood soared higher making her guilt increase tenfold._

"_What time should I be ready?"_

"_Uh, well…" the high was beginning to wear off ._

"_Should I get ready now?"_

"_I don't know. I'm not a girl, you tell me" he joked._

"_I should get ready…" she mused, eyeing her own book bag nervously._

"_Isn't there like a standard formula? Thirty minute shower, one hour for hair and makeup... All I know is the doors open at 8:00pm."_

_She rummaged through her belongings, desperately clawing at the zippers. She needed to calm down. The idea had sickeningly been playing out in her head for the past few weeks. She'd fought it, telling her therapist and psychologist what they wanted to hear-what needed to be said to appear content._

_It was a losing battle and her erratic jumble of emotions was making the tempting idea even more appealing. _

'd sqrt(sqr(x2-x1)-sqr(y2-y1))_…' she frantically chanted the formula to herself._

"_You forget something?"_

_She felt her stomach flop and an uprising of bile in the back of her throat form as the realization hit. Her medicine was at home. _

"_No… I'm going to hop in the shower now."_

_He watched her retreating form._

"_I'll need an hour for hair and makeup and all…" she added, attempting humor when inside she was dying._

_Her seemingly playful tone eased any inkling he felt._

_While she showered, Troy ironed his shirt and laid out her dress across his bedspread- smiling at the way her curves would undoubtedly beautifully fill the gown. _

_Tonight would be perfect._

_Unbeknownst to him, within the small confines of the shower, Gabriella was harshly tugging strands of her hair in both hands, sobbing uncontrollably as the tortured hell of twenty three years of wisdom surpassing even the smartest of minds began unhinging her from reality._

* * *

He rounded the familiar corner to his apartment complex and let the memories fade for the time being. Lethargy engrossed his body and he ached to change out of his dress clothes and sit for a moment and gather his thoughts.

There was no explanation for her actions- at least not yet. A grim thought entered his mind for the first time.

She was _so_ smart she'd fooled everyone, even him, into thinking everything was okay.

He shut off the engine and headed up the winding staircase, stopping cold when he noticed his front door was ajar.

Loud pounding sounded from within the apartment and he pushed back the door.

A repair man was hunched over, stomping freshly laid carpet in the hallway. Troy's eyes surveyed the state of his apartment, immediately falling upon the soiled Berber, rolled up in the corner.

The man noticed the young male standing in the doorway and waved.

"Just a couple stitches and some tape and everything's' good as new" he declared.

Troy involuntarily cringed at the word 'stitches'.

"What are you doing here?"

"Emergency work order called in to your landlord by a Greg Meyers. Soiled carpet removal. This is just a temporary fix. I'll need you to schedule a time where I can come back in, move some of this furniture aside and re-lay the entire hallway." He made a sweeping gesture with his arms, indicating the span of the corridor.

"Greg Meyers?" Troy repeated.

"Yeah, Greg Meyers" the man noticed the pale color and gaunt features. "You all right?"

"Yeah.. Yeah, I'm fine."

Troy gingerly stepped sideways into the kitchen, although the work being done was much further inside the apartment. He didn't want to touch anything or make matters worse.

He flipped on the light switch and noticed a note atop the kitchen counter and leaned over to get a closer look at the words scribbled across the page.

_**Troy,**_

_**I called the landlord to get both your front door and the carpet fixed. Life has a funny way of playing itself out- I'm just glad I was in town long enough to be of help to you and your girlfriend. I'm sending up prayers for her health and speedy recovery. My grandmother lives down the hall in unit 8. Should you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. I hope the repairman have already come through by the time you get this note.**_

_**All My Best,**_

_**Greg**_

Troy's eyes misted over. Greg Meyers may have just been a guardian angel. Without him… he didn't want to think of the outcome of Greg not showing up when he did.

Blinking back tears, he folded the note in half, tucking it into one of the cookbooks he had propped up.

Spotting his gym bag in the corner, he breathed a sigh of relief upon finding fresh clothes including several pairs of workout shorts and boxers inside. He needed to leave. The air was thick with a dark heaviness.

As he straightened up, Gabriella's book bag caught his eye and he remembered how frazzled she seemed after he'd told her about the ballet.

Something about her eyes- the vacant disconnect, made him second-guess her actions.

Had that behavior meant something? What had she been looking for?

He rummaged in the front pocket, bypassing two tampons and a pencil case. The main compartment held two thick textbooks and nothing more.

Sighing in frustration at his snooping, and feeling annoyed that he was looking so deeply for a sign in all the wrong places, he slung his gym bag over his torso.

"Try not to run anything heavy over this area for a few days. It won't withstand the force" the repairman called out.

"Yeah, uh… I'll get back to you on when to fix the carpet" Troy uneasily stated while he plucked his cell charger and the keys to his vehicle from the kitchen table.

Not waiting for a reply and feeling the overwhelming need to physically distance himself from his home as his eyes once more found the ruined carpet pathetically discarded in the corner, he shut the door and headed back to the hospital.

* * *

**2 hours later…**

Chad and Taylor looked up with the same curiosity gracing both their faces.

"I thought you were going home to change?" Chad asked, pointing at Troy's haphazard appearance.

"There was a guy fixing the carpet, I couldn't…" he stopped, feeling his throat closing.

Taylor shook her head sadly, putting two and two together at the situation he'd been met with at his home.

"Troy, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I should have offered up my place."

"Shit man. With all this craziness, I guess- it was…" Chad stuttered, feeling his cheeks grow hot with shame.

"It's all right" he shrugged, feeling awkward at their despondent looks of pity.

"Gabriella's mom had a board meeting to attend. She'll be back later" Taylor noted, trying to lessen the awkwardness between them.

"How is she?"

"Sleeping."

"Have you guys been back to see her yet?"

The two shook their heads and three nervous glances were exchanged.

"C'mon…" Troy motioned for his friends to follow him down the hallway.

They didn't talk as Troy had them turning down various corridors, his pace slowing considerably as they made their way toward the last door.

Their bodies turned in unison to look at Gabriella through the glass.

Taylor's eyes welled with tears and she tightened her grip on Chad's hand. Troy stared feebly at her small body. She had moved some since he'd left that morning and was now on her right side, knees pulled up to her chest and her head burrowed within the soft pillow.

"Do you want to go inside?" Troy quietly asked.

His two friends silently nodded their reply.

Troy twisted the knob and they filed into the room. Their actions were delayed and awkward.

"How did we not know?" Taylor whispered, her voice quivered, matching the trembling motion of her bottom lip.

The question hung in the air, haunting them all as they realized perhaps, after all these years, they had never truly known Gabriella Montez.

* * *

**Later that evening…**

Chad and Troy sat across from one another in the cafeteria, the sandwiches they'd ordered still lay untouched atop their brown trays.

It was getting late, Gabriella had woken briefly earlier in the afternoon-groggily registering the faces of Troy and her friends before she dozed off once more, Troy had been rubbing at his eyes for the past two hours, a clear indication of his exhaustion further settling upon his tired body, and Taylor had left prior to attend her evening classes.

Gabriella's mother arrived after having gone in to work for a half day. The sight of a helpless mother tenderly stroking the long locks of her only child and gently tucking the strands behind her ears- a gesture that caused Gabriella to subconsciously lean into her mother's hand, had urged the three friends to quietly excuse themselves to leave them to their privacy.

Chad glanced up, catching another eye rub from Troy. The repetitive motion snapped his patience.

"Dude."

Troy looked up, his slightly red cerulean orbs connecting with the familiar warm eyes.

"This food blows and I swear I can literally smell myself" Chad continued.

"I think it might be me…" Troy replied.

"It might be you what?"

"What you smell. It might be me."

"We need showers. We need real food and we need sleep."

He could see the concern in Troy's eyes. He didn't want to be too far from Gabriella.

"Her mom is here. You aren't leaving her alone."

Troy's head snapped up as he squinted his eyes.

"How did you-"

"Dude, it's written all over your face. We aren't leaving her alone and we'll come back after we shower, eat, and sleep."

"I just don't want her to wake up asking for me and I'm not here. I don't want her to be scared."

"So then we'll go ask her mom to call if Gabi's asking for you and you'll come right back."

"Yeah…"

"If I throw in the offer to order two slabs of ribs from Ortega's will you come?"

Grinning his first real smile in the last twenty hours, Troy let out a small chuckle.

"You paying?" he raised his eyebrow.

"If it means I don't have to smell our co-mingled body funk, hell yes, I'm paying."

"Deal."

With that, they tossed their uneaten subs (that truly had a taste akin to soggy cardboard) into the trash and headed off to Gabriella's room.

* * *

Chad eased back his chair, muttering under his breath,

"You drive hugging the wheel…"

"Just because I don't basically lie down while driving doesn't mean I hug the wheel."

"You've hugged the wheel since you got your permit."

Troy shook his head, smiling once again and feeling a bit more like himself.

After exiting the Eisenhower Expressway, and now passing the familiar buildings of their university, Troy got to thinking. Maybe Chad had noticed something amiss with Gabriella prior to her admittance to the hospital. Perhaps he picked up on something that had somehow gone unnoticed by him- a thought he didn't like and wasn't quite sure he'd ever forgive himself if it turned out to be the case.

"Bro?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you notice anything with Gabi?"

"No…"

Troy nodded, a bit relieved that he wasn't an absolutely terrible boyfriend that didn't observe warning signs.

"…I've been wondering the same thing. It's kind of driving me nuts. She's so damn perky-even in the mornings which I find absolutely revolting. She's louder than the cheerleaders at our games."

Troy stared at the radio clock. Chad was right. She was so jubilant and possessed a lightness to her that others envied. She always had an answer for everything and was able to see both sides to every story.

"It doesn't make any fucking sense" Chad finally sighed.

"I know…"

They uncomfortably sat in silence for the next mile, mulling over how it could be that Gabriella- _their _Gabriella, was so broken in her self suffering.

"I suck at this."

"At what?"

"With… this. With Gabriella. I suck at knowing what to say."

"Dude, I'm not expecting you to have all the answers. I'm pretty lost myself. I was there and she didn't say a word to me. She could have-" his voice broke and he clenched his jaw in an effort to keep his emotions at bay.

Chad gripped the wheel harder.

"My mom has this thing she always told me. It's not anything earth moving but…" his voice trailed off.

"What'd she say?" Troy earnestly inquired.

"It's nothing, it's stupid."

"Try me."

"She just always tells me that when you encounter something difficult that you're trying to wrap your head around, you've got two ways you can get through it. You can either try to understand it, or try to deal with it. But you've got to do one or the other because taking on both will drive you insane."

He wordlessly turned the corner to his apartment complex.

"I told you it wasn't-" Chad began.

"No." Troy firmly resolved.

"…it's more than enough."

* * *

_**Author's note: I know this chapter took a while for me to post. I attended a friend's wedding and had a massive site update on the ZA Angels blog. This section had a lot of info and back-story about the four (who will be the central characters of "Brilliant"-in addition to Sharpay who appears later). The next chapter is all from Gabriella's point of view including some moments between her mother. It also involves the first real conversation between she and Troy. Some things to note/character re-cap:**_

_**Troy Bolton:**_

_**Senior at University of Illinois at Chicago. He's the captain of the basketball team and preparing for the NCAA Championships. **_

_**Gabriella Montez:**_

_**Went to Harvard for her B.A. Graduated in 3 years. She then moved to Illinois and now attends Northwestern School of Business, alongside Taylor, as a graduate student.**_

_**Chad Danforth:**_

_**Also a senior at UIC and plays basketball for the university. He's looking to be drafted into the NBA after graduation.**_

_**Taylor McKessie:**_

_**Senior at Northwestern University. Engaged to Chad.**_

_**Sharpay Evans:**_

_**Appears later in "Brilliant". Her character has been toned down to fit within the context of this story, but she is still the no-holds barrier, outspoken, dramatic, pink-loving Sharpay you know.**_

_**Other characters:**_

_**Kelsi Nielsen/Jason Cross:**_

_**The two are mentioned and are included in "Brilliant" through phone conversations. As noted, they are married. They live in Southern California.**_

_**Ryan Evans:**_

_**Appears later in "Brilliant" but very briefly. He lives in Chelsea, NY.**_

_**Zeke Baylor:**_

_**Appears (briefly) later in "Brilliant". Whether he and Sharpay are together, well, you'll have to just wait and see!**_

_**Martha Cox:**_

_**Part of the "core ten" I refer to, but is not in the story.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: All lyrics used belong to Pink Floyd.**_

_**There is no pain, you are receding.  
A distant ships smoke on the horizon.  
You are only coming through in waves.  
Your lips move but I cant hear what you're sayin.  
When I was a child I had a fever.  
My hands felt just like two balloons.  
Now I got that feeling once again.  
I cant explain, you would not understand.  
This is not how I am.  
I have become comfortably numb.  
**_

_**-Pink Floyd "Comfortably Numb"**_

**Psychiatric consultation with Dr. Howard- 9:15am…**

"Was anything happening within your life that felt unmanageable?"

"No."

"Did you feel overwhelmed?"

"No."

"Were you regularly taking your medicine?"

"Gabriella, were you taking your prescribed medication?"

"Yes."

"Had you missed or forgotten any dosages?"

"No."

"Had you or have you ever attempted something like this before?"

"No."

"What were your feelings the night of September 16th?"

"I was tired."

"You tried to end your life, Gabriella."

"I was just tired."

* * *

**11:00am that same day…**

Her wide watchful eyes looked on in simple observation as the nurse checked her iv. She uncapped a mechanical pen, scribbled several numbers, reached up to lightly squeeze the bag twice, released, and then jotted down another series of digits.

"Are you comfortable?"

Gabriella nodded her head.

"I'll be back with something for you to eat, I just need to make a few more rounds first."

The woman's light blue scrubs faded away upon her exiting the room. Her chocolaty pupils roved over the clear bags, her mouth twisting into the faint hint of a frown as she re-counted the clumsy way fluids were administered into the iv. She'd remained quiet during the ordeal. That's how she always dealt with her urges.

The "urges" plagued her day in and day out. At the grocery store while the cash register tallied her receipt, she politely waited having already pulled out cash in the exact tender the clerk would rattle off moments later.

During class when a professor would skip over a step, she'd wordlessly highlight the missed notation in her textbook. While assisting her lab partner in chemistry class, she'd patiently wait as her counterpart figured out the next series of measurements. She purposely lagged behind while helping her mother file taxes, not wanting to showcase that what took most hours to complete, she'd have done in mere minutes.

Rarely, if ever, did she need to check her bank account, already having memorized a detailed recount of her funds. Often times she was only a few dollars off when it became necessary for her to glance online or request a printed receipt at the ATM.

Her memory was photographic. Practically one glance at a chart, sheet, list, or any other source of information and she could recite nearly every word of the page- accurately improvising when needed.

In high school she had pretended to study alongside Troy when in actuality she could easily ace a pop quiz or test minutes after having finished her first lesson which introduced the material. She'd never dumbed herself down necessarily, but she built an extremely thorough framework around her in order to expose the normal aspects of her genius.

The evening of the ballet had been the breaking point of an accumulation of twenty three years of hiding a deep dark secret. She was troubled beyond the depths of what most psychiatrics could understand, given that she could obtain the very degrees, licenses, and certifications they'd earned, at a much shorter rate.

She hovered in a very lonely place that most could not follow. It was this alienation that had formed her feelings of helplessness, self-loathing , and internal anguish.

As promised, the nurse returned shortly and set down a tray containing a bowl of minestrone soup, a dish of red Jell-O, roll, and a small plastic pitcher of water across her lap.

"I'm not hungry…" Gabriella began.

"Would you like something else?"

"No."

"You hardly touched breakfast. Can you try a little bit of the soup or Jell-O?"

"Okay."

With the verbal consent to at least attempt several bites of food, the nurse exited the room once again.

Gabriella stared down at the broth with discontent. Gently, she picked up the tray and set it down atop the stacked dresser next to her bed.

She pulled the sheets up and over her neck and closed her eyes to no longer have to look at the fleeting glint of light flooding into the room.

* * *

**6 years ago…**

"_Mom?" Gabriella peeked her head around the corner to peer into the kitchen where she sat._

"_Yeah sweetie?"_

_Gabriella's apprehension visibly calmed at the soft sound of her mother's voice, as her feet lightly padded across the wooden floors._

"_Can I ask you a favor?"_

"_Mmhmm" she replied, stirring the appetizing smelling pot of homemade carne asada._

"_You know how I've been going to these doctors?" she bit her bottom lip nervously._

"_Yes, are you having a problem with one of them?"_

"_No! No… they're great. I feel at ease talking to them" she reassured._

_Her mother's tense body softened at this._

"_It's just-well, I don't want the other kids at school to know that I talk to a psychiatrist."_

"_Sweetie, that's something only you and I need to know about."_

"_I know. But, I just wanted to make sure you won't tell anyone's parents…" her voice trailed off as she aimlessly stirred the cornmeal mixture she'd begun to toy with during the conversation._

"_Is there someone in particular you are worried about knowing?" her mother gently pressed._

"_Not exactly…"_

_Gabriella thought back to the blue-eyed boy. Troy. That morning in home room he'd turned around and smiled the most genuine, toothy grin in her direction. It was a smile meant only for her. Even in the hallways, he'd casually lean against the lockers, oblivious to the stares of longing from dozens of girls as she gathered her notebooks. His husky voice filled her ears, leaving her lingering for just another word, another whisper, another chuckle to escape from his lips. And he never disappointed- making sure to always find some coy way to touch her-whether it be brushing a haphazard curl aside or allowing his fingertips to graze across her wrist for longer than normal. _

"_Mom, I like Troy-"_

_Her features crinkled into a frown remembering the blonde rich girls' antics of plastering fliers of her math achievements from the prior school she'd attended all over East High's walls. _

_At lunch she and Troy had just walked into the cafeteria together. Chad held out one of the colorful fliers to her as they approached the table. _

"_Is this you?" he asked with inquisitive wonder._

_A smiling portrait of her mocked the surprised expression gracing her face. She registered a stinging as her eyes welled with tears. Suddenly she noticed groups of students, each clasping onto their own copy of the flier, with smirks of withering disapproval blossoming across their faces, lined up against the balcony's banister of the expansive hall. They were all judging her. _

_In what felt like slow motion, she turned to watch Troy's reaction. He didn't even glance at the parameter of the cafeteria. Instead, his eyes were trained on the paper._

"_You never told me you were a state math champion!" Troy exclaimed._

_She held her breath in anticipation for the ridicule to come._

_Skimming over the flier, Troy's face broke out into a beaming smile._

"_That's awesome!" he quipped, giving her a playful nudge with his shoulder._

_Shell-shocked, her stomach free-fell as she watched Troy fold the page neatly in half and tuck it gently into one of his notebooks. He wanted to save it? There were no 'freaky math girl' jokes to be hurled her way? She watched as Chad shrugged, returning to the large circular table and everyone began opening their brown paper bags to start another casually mundane lunch period._

_Gabriella remembered eating the best sack lunch ever that day._

_Snapping out of her daydream, she caught her mothers curious eye._

"…_and I think he likes me for me" she quietly added._

_Wiping her hands across the apron she donned, her mother crossed the kitchen and leaned over the countertop, both forearms propped in thoughtful contemplation._

"_It's been you and I for quite some time, Mija."_

"_I know…" the stirring of cornmeal increased with her nervousness._

"_And there is an unbreakable bond that I cherish between us. I'll tell you what. There will be no mention of doctors, or test scores, or any other private moments as long as you can promise me something."_

"_What's that?"_

"_You-" she reached for her daughter, grasping both petite hands within her own, "stay honest with me. You be the Gabriella I know and stay true to yourself. You do the work during your sessions and we keep no secrets from one another. Deal?"_

_Gabriella pretended to mull over the idea, tapping her pointer finger against her chin as she looked toward the ceiling._

_Her mother took the opportunity to tickle her sides, causing the girl to shriek happily. As their laughter subsided Gabriella wrapped her arms around her mother's torso- the force of the act slightly causing her to stumble back._

"_Deal" she whispered into the matching dark curls she'd inherited._

"_Deal" her mother sighed in contempt._

* * *

**2pm…**

Ms. Montez reached up with a handful of soft Kleenex to wipe away the tears shed during Gabriella's sleep that now fell freely from the tightly closed eyes.

In one evening of self doubt her daughter had broken the one promise they'd agreed upon.

Gabriella restlessly shifted her body to the side, repositioning herself atop the mattress and soon succumbed to slumber once more.

* * *

**3 days prior…**

_Sitting on the couch, methodically chewing the rubbery consistence of a veggie pizza she'd ordered Gabriella exhaled noisily. She wasn't even hungry but couldn't remember the last time she'd properly sat down for a meal._

_Her phone rang and she glanced over, slight panic etched painfully across her sad orbs as the caller id flashed._

"_Hey mom" she sighed, attempting to feign some ounce of excitement._

"_Mija? Are you all right sweetie?" the worried voice echoed across the receiver._

"_Yeah, I'm fine, why?"_

"_Your doctors called the house, both of them. They said you missed your appointments this week? Is everything okay at school?"_

"_I'm swamped. I have so many midterms…" her voice trailed off, silently grimacing at the bold lie she told. One test did not equate to the plural use of 'midterms'._

"_Did you call to re-schedule?"_

"_Not yet mom, I will."_

"_I'm just a little stressed over my workload. I need to keep my scores high for this internship I'm up for. I'm writing on a sticky note right now to remind myself to call and re-schedule" she quickly added before an uncomfortable silence and further questioning ensued._

"_You take care of yourself, Gabriella. I know you want to do well, but-"_

"_Mom, I gotta go. Thank you for the call. I just needed a reminder, honest."_

"_Bye sweetie."_

_Without hesitation she punched the 'end' button. Carelessly tossing aside the half eaten slice of pizza , she buried her head in her hands. For weeks her emotions had been awry. Her thoughts were jumbled, she was having trouble sleeping, and recently she'd begun a trend of screening phone calls-something she'd never done before, allowing incoming calls to go directly to voicemail. _

_Like clockwork her eyes caught the flashing light in the upper right hand corner of her mobile, indicating the newly awaiting messages. Flipping onto her back she picked up the phone to sift through the unwanted messages._

_The rambling voice of her best friend commenced._

"_Gabi, it's Tay. I've got an organic chem-lab paper due in exactly two days that I haven't even started because I'm too busy trying to cram for my stats exam. Long story short, I'm going to have to take a rain check on Key Wester's. Can we do it sometime next week?"_

_Robotically, she pressed '7' to delete the message. Troy's casual tone drawled on in the next earful._

"_Hey it's me. Call me when you get this. Did I leave my practice jersey at your place? Coach is going to seriously throw a shit fit if I show up to practice one more time without the right gear on. I'll be at your place later tonight, all right? But seriously, call me back about the jersey. Love you."_

_Another '7' was briskly shoved with her index finger. Now, a haughty pitch screeched into her eardrums._

"_Your phone is not a paperweight. I need the name of that awful, tacky bbq place you all insist upon frequenting in the city. Omegas? Orzegas?… whatever. Don't ask why. Oh, and Ryan says hi. Call him, I think he's lonely or something. Toodles!"_

'_7'._

"_Gabs, it's Chad. Troy left his jersey at your place again. Coach is gonna kill him. Can I drop by later to pick it up before practice? You both owe me."_

'_7'._

"_Gabriella, this is-"_

_Erratically, she hurled the phone across the room, watching as it hit the wall with a loud thud and bounced off the carpet. _

_Her chest heaved while her breathing slowed from the force of the toss. Rubbing her temples she took quick strides toward the bathroom. Once inside, she opened the cabinet and stared at the prescription bottle labeled with thick bold text; 'Wellbutrin SR'._

_It had only been a few days of nonchalantly passing over the orange jar both in the morning and evenings. A shaky hand clasped onto the hard plastic. Unscrewing the lid, she shook out a sole, tiny, pink pill._

_Blood rushed to her head and the beating of her heart amplified. The air felt warmer and a sensation of the walls closing in overwhelmed her senses. Small beads of perspiration gathered across her upper lip. _

_The raspy strain of her quivering breath vibrated across the small enclosure like a hurricane. _

_Her eyes closed and she swallowed hard._

'_Don't do it…don't do it…don't do it…' a faraway voice seemed to chant._

_Ripping her eyelids open, she glanced into the mirror forcing herself to look at the petrified visage. The expressionless, dilated eyes found focus within the glass._

_Impulsively, her palm opened and in a swift act, flung the pill into the open porcelain toilet. Quickly, she jabbed the lever and watched it wash away._

* * *

**Later that evening…**

Stirring once again, Gabriella groaned lightly and reluctantly pried an eyelid open.

Had she somehow dreamt it all?

Fluorescent lighting, the odd smell of rubbing alcohol, and a rhythmic beating of the heart monitor she was still hooked up to reminded her that this was no dream. For whatever reason, she had cheated death and was still amongst the living.

A nurse, apparently the night shift attendant, entered the room with a soft knocking before she twisted the door handle open.

"Rise and shine…" she quietly announced.

Gabriella winced, using her sore bandaged forearms to scoot higher onto the bed in an upright position.

"You've been asleep most of the day Ms. Montez. Do you need anything?"

Unknowingly she shook her disproval, stopping herself when the parched dryness of her throat caught her off guard.

"Water?" she whispered.

"Sure thing, I'll be right back with a pitcher. Do you want ice too?"

"Yes" she nodded.

Within minutes the nurse was pouring a plastic cup full of clear liquid. Gabriella tentatively sipped the cool refreshment, feeling immediately perkier at the rejuvenation.

"My mother?" she inquired.

"She was here most the afternoon. I believe she went out to have a word with Dr. Johnson. Would you like for me to find her?"

Wordlessly she rocked her head back and forth.

Following a routine checking of iv's, fluids, and vitals the nurse once again departed, promising a warm meal to come sometime within the hour.

Staring down at the plastic id bracelet, bewilderment clouded her thoughts.

'_How is this my life?'_

* * *

Troy roughly slammed his car door shut, aggravated at yet another unproductive practice. The plays he'd called had been clumsy and the drills the team ran were poorly executed. The NCAA Championship finals were to start in just under three weeks and Troy had the immense weight of leading his entire team to an expected repeat win of last year's tournament.

Schoolwork was quickly piling up back at his apartment, heedlessly strewn across his desk with half-hearted notes of deadlines and due dates scribbled across the top of pages.

Gabriella's health was now his main concern. Extracurriculars such as basketball, and schoolwork that could be completed during the course of an all-nighter seemed trivial compared to the situation he found himself faced with.

Getting her better was the _only_ thing.

He trotted inside the automatic doors, giving a slight head nod to a familiar check-in aide at the front desk.

His worn practice sneakers lightly clunked across the polished tile, squeaking in his haste to turn corners sharply as his mission to get to Gabriella's bedside carried him further along the hallway.

Gabriella was hunched over a tray of food, picking at the contents with a look of boredom painted across her soft face. Before his heavy feet slowed his intent pace, he saw her petite figure. He swore a familiar hint of rose permeated her cheeks and he felt himself suck in a deeper breath at this. Stalking forward with slight caution, he entered the room.

Worrisome ocean orbs and bereaved mocha eyes suffered a moment of awkward unfamiliarity wedged between them.

Her ashamed hooded eyes broke the stare, fixing her gaze upon the unappetizing food.

His heart seared with fiery anguish once he realized that she was too afraid to look him in the eye.

Pulling a chair at her bedside toward his torso, he strode forward and collapsed onto the frame in exhaustion.

Silently they tried to form sentences to piece together the changed spectrum of their life.

Words failed them and a struggle to speak first was set into motion.

Troy cleared his throat.

Gabriella spun a cold, damp noodle against her fork.

"Do you need anything?" came his unusually gruff voice, the sound foreign even to his own ears.

She shook her head, a mass of auburn curls falling over her blue-gown covered chest.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, attaching to direct questions to get them through this unnerving moment.

"No" she croaked.

"Can I get you something else from the cafeteria… or… I could go out somewhere?"

"I'm fine."

He raked a hand through his tousled tendrils, closing his eyes in distress. Her cooperative defiance was pure torture.

Just when he felt he couldn't take the quietness anymore, the calm exterior he fought to showcase withering at an alarming rate, her delicate voice spoke out.

"You must think I'm stupid, don't you." She stated this small utterance as fact, not a question meant for him to ponder.

Choosing his words carefully, he began- "No, I was actually thinking how smart you are…"

A wistful look engrossed her eyes, fading as he continued.

"…because you had us all fooled."

Somehow her scorned features gave him slight cause to gloat. He didn't like to see her hurting, but a look filled with any sort of emotion meant he'd struck a chord- it meant that she could still feel.

"What I don't get is that if you're so smart, how is this the conclusion you come up with to resolve your problems?" he directed aloud to himself more so than her.

"I don't deserve you" she mumbled.

His stern eyes pierced through her with intensity. He leaned forward, whispering darkly.

"Do you know I gave you CPR? You weren't breathing. I had my lips over yours, not in a kiss, freaking out because I knew that if I didn't breathe life into you, I'd never get to kiss you again" his voice shook with raw passion.

"I don't know what to say Troy" she shuddered feebly, a gesture he caught immediately. _'Did it pain her to say his name?' _he thought, feeling his eyes pool with emotion at the idea.

"It's like something Chad told me yesterday," he wrung his hands together, "if you want to understand what happened, then I'm more than willing to help you deal with it, and hopefully we'll meet somewhere in the middle" his voice broke at the end of his sentiment from the strain of feelings bubbling inside his chest.

He wiped both hands across his face, rubbing at his jaw.

"We don't have to talk about everything right now. My only concern is that you get some rest."

With that, he rose from the chair, gently easing it back toward her bedside. Turning to face her once more, he added with heartfelt sincerity,

"But if you need me, I'm not going anywhere. You can tell a nurse or your mother to come get me and I'll be here. I'm _not_ leaving you."

Fingertips had barely made contact with the metal handle when she abruptly called out to him.

"Wait!"

The frantic yelp stopped him in his tracks, halting his forward march.

"Will you stay?"

Spinning round, a muddled confusion spilled across his creased brow.

Their eyes picked up the rhythm of an accustomed silent communication that had been briefly hindered.

"Want to talk?"

Shaking her head, she motioned with her eyesight toward the chair he'd taken a seat upon earlier.

Sitting eye-level with her once again, they began a conversation of stares.

He watched her tired eyes droop lower and lower until they rested gently so that her long lashes fluttered against the high cheekbones.

Realization hit that he was in love with someone he did not understand. Someone who had overnight practically become a woman he barely recognized...

…then it occurred to him for the first time that Gabriella might perhaps be a stranger to another person. Herself.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much to **1sr188, cjxoxdancerella (Kylie), and Pandora147 (Dani)** for the help! You guys are my life-savers.

I know I've been an unpredictable updater, but I am making it a personal goal to get a new chapter posted weekly from here on out.

Gabriella is released from the hospital in the next chapter and so begins her struggle to rebuild her life and let those that she loves inside. A symbolic journal will be monumental in her progress. *Side-note: I hope that those of you in America that are eligible to be a part of this year's elections get out there and ROCK THE VOTE!!!!


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: All lyrics used belong to Depeche Mode.**_

_**Let me see you**_

_**Stripped down to the bone**_

_**Let me hear you speaking**_

_**Just for me**_

_**Let me see you**_

_**Stripped down to the bone let me hear you crying**_

_**Just for me**_

_**- Depeche Mode "Stripped"**_

The three days spent at St. Peters went by in somewhat of a blur for Gabriella. She rarely spoke, unless if spoken to. Even then, her answers were curt, fairly brief, and to the point. She was not a dismissive sort of person, but her behavior teetered upon a deeply embedded indifference to the guarded environment she found herself immersed in.

Letting people in had always been a struggle. The frequent moves had taught her a lesson or two on how close to let others get. If she kept people at bay, it wouldn't hurt as badly when she found herself saying goodbye to the few friends she'd made. Eight moves had given her time to perfect the balance of measured social distance. Years of saying goodbye made her a pro when it came time to bid farewell.

What was the point in divulging details of her life to unknown doctors she knew were paid by the hour? They weren't truly there to help or listen to her problems. Working with their nameless patients' day in and day out was simply repetitive motions propelling them forward to their end goal of a signed check every two weeks.

Now she sat, unflinching as a nurse peeled away the ECG stickers. In the back of her mind she smiled at the welcome pain caused from the sticky adhesive being pried from her supple skin.

The pungent smell of rubbing alcohol wafted to her nostrils as the aide rubbed a soaked cotton ball around the edges of another sticker before removing the white circular object.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" the woman inquired.

'_Hurting? Are you kidding me?'_ she grimly thought before turning her mouth upwards in a slight smile.

"No, I'm fine."

"Just one more…" the aide muttered as she lowered Gabriella's lose blue top extracting an adhesive from her chest.

Discarding of the plastic items in a nearby waste bin, the nurse wheeled out the heart monitor into an adjacent room.

Gabriella watched through subdued eyes. Yawning, she curled her fingers into a wave as her mother entered the dim-lit room.

"It's dark in here" she frowned glancing around for a light switch.

"I like it this way" she softly replied.

"Oh…"

Draping a black leather handbag across an empty chair her glistening eyes roved over her frail daughter as she approached the bedside. She took in the sight of the lithe body, perking slightly when she noticed the dark circles framing the undersides of her eyes had faded considerably from the day before.

"How you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Are you hungry?"

She stared at her mother, an expressionless look glazed over her eyes.

"You never were a fan of tomato soup" she gave a nervous laugh.

Gabriella fought a smile onto her face, wanting to show her mother she appreciated the effort.

She returned the expression with a sad smile and reached under her arm, revealing a plain black weathered-looking journal.

Immediately Gabriella's eyes narrowed.

"Why do you have that?" she asked darkly, eyeing the object with a withering glare.

"Mija…" she gently began. Instinctively a hand went up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. Gabriella recoiled from the touch, a gesture that caused her mother to blink at the abruptness of her normally sweet tempered child.

"You have no idea what this did for us" she punctuated 'this', by nudging the journal with her hand.

"That was years ago mom..." her tired voice took a defensive tone.

"It helped me understand what you were going through. You wrote with _so _much emotion, such _passion_. You let all your true feelings come alive on these pages. I got to have my daughter back when I read this."

Gabriella continued to stare when the book was gently laid upon her lap.

Moments passed before she reached a timid hand out, hesitantly flipping the journal open to a random page. A small chuckle escaped her lips as she looked down at the doodle of a large ornate butterfly gracing the upper right hand corner. The entry was titled 'Spring Fling Dance'.

She remembered twirling under the strobe light as Troy laughed while they danced the familiar steps to the infectious melody of "The Macarena".

"_Hai Macarena!" she cried out joyously, beaming brightly at the blue-eyed boy beside her._

"_A la….something something… Legria Macarena- HEY MACERENA!" Troy blurted out after stumbling through the verse while he sang along._

_She doubled over in laughter at his lame attempt at Spanish._

Her eyes closed painfully at the memory. Even then she had been tortured, but for one evening the hurt went away. The weight upon her shoulders lifted and she was able to remain blissfully tucked into the arms of her boyfriend. In that moment, nothing else mattered. She was just a girl. No labels, no names, no sideways glances- just a girl, enjoying a school dance alongside her closest friends.

"What am I supposed to do with it? How will this solve anything?"

"Maybe it's time for you to let someone else in?"

"You want me to tell Troy?" her eyes shot up in slight fear, taken aback by her mother's request. Absentmindedly, she clutched the journal closer against her bosom.

"Gabriella…" she began, raking her fingers soothingly through the dull looking wavy tendrils.

"The choice is up to you. I will support whatever you decide, you know that. But the choice is ultimately yours- it always has been."

"Mom, I-"her voice hitched on a wave of emotion. She wanted_ so_ desperately to let him in, to share her every fear and reservation… but it wasn't that simple. God, how she wished it were! To lay it all out on the table, no holds barriers, letting go of the anguish that tortured her. The thought of such sweet release mocked the inevitable shrinking feeling, the reclusiveness, and the harboring of an immense amount of abandonment.

"… it's not that easy. This" she curled her fingers tighter around the binding, "was my way to tell _you_ everything. I wrote what I didn't want to be, what scares me, the warning signs so you'd be able to help me…" Her eyes misted over in reflection, a straining lump forming in her throat that she swallowed down with force.

"…I trust you" she whispered.

Miss Montez stared back down at the baby girl she'd watched grow into a sophisticated woman.

"Do you trust him?"

* * *

**30 minutes later…**

Her tired hands unclenched from the smoothly aged leather. One hundred and twenty –five pages of her life lay etched across the surfaces.

The extent of her hell might drive him away.

She'd almost lost it all.

'_What more do I have to lose?'_ she thought to herself.

* * *

**Later that afternoon…**

Troy stood at the counter, rapping the stack of papers he'd requested against the granite countertop. He'd inquired about a list of names and received business cards for each doctor Gabriella had been under the care of during her stay. In all honesty he didn't want to talk to Dr. Johnson or any of the staff he'd encountered, but knew that if things proved difficult in the coming weeks and months of her recovery he'd be the first to push aside any reservations and make a phone call to the necessary partitions.

"Do you have any pamphlets or guides that might be helpful?" he innocently questioned, his brow creased in concentration.

The young nurse handed him a pamphlet.

Troy flipped through the pages. All three of them.

"This isn't enough…" he held up the scant pamphlet, feeling overwhelmed that he'd most likely have to try and piece things together by himself when he heard a feather-light voice drift toward his ears.

"Maybe this can be" Gabriella quietly announced.

He reeled, staring quizzically at the black journal she extended toward him. Dodging his attentive gaze, she prodded her past toward him. She was giving it all to him. This candid access to her suffering was a final bid and a last brave attempt to begin some path of understanding between them.

"What is this?" he gently accepted the journal.

Finally she allowed her eyes to meet his and after several moments Troy nodded his head- to what, he was not sure but he felt a sort of connection that whatever was inside this journal, he was meant to read carefully.

* * *

Miss Montez had already driven her mini-van to the front of the main hospital entrance and was waiting patiently in the driver's seat.

She watched as Troy gently held Gabriella's small body against him, one arm wrapped protectively around the curve of her tiny waist and his other rested softly upon her forearm.

As he knelt forward to open the passenger seat for Gabriella to ease herself into, she noticed the spine of the black journal peeking from underneath his underarm.

Right then she knew,

'_They're going to make it.' _

During the twenty minute car ride to Gabriella's apartment, the trio sat in silence. The sound of a local radio station lightly hummed in the background.

Gabriella rested her head against the window, staring into no particular space, letting her mind drift from the past few days.

Her mother's eyes remained forward on the road, but every now and again she glanced into the rearview mirror to observe Troy.

He'd quietly opened the journal at some point during the drive and was now hunched over, forehead intensely wrinkled as his lips moved slightly while he read.

Through discrete peeks, an unfolding of various emotions ghosted across Troy's handsome features.

At one point his eyes welled causing him to lay the book aside and stare aimlessly out the window, unknowingly mimicking Gabriella's very same predicament in the passenger seat.

His fingers grasped at the book, not wanting to read anymore- only having delved four pages in, but needing to know everything.

A labored sigh escaped his mouth.

He ruffled his hair, gathering his thoughts.

He'd set the journal down, then immediately picked it up again, bewitched by her words and raw musings.

Leaning back his cerulean eyes stared at the roof of the car. He swallowed hard, causing his Adam's apple to jump. Reflexively his head bent down once more and he continued further into her world.

Unbeknownst to Troy, Miss Montez witnessed more than a physical struggle. His willingness to trudge forward was a testament of his devotion to her daughter.

* * *

Three tired figures emerged from the parked car and entered the cold, dark apartment.

"Let's heat this place up…" Troy mumbled to no one in particular as he headed toward the hallway to turn the furnace on rubbing his hands together.

Gabriella stood still taking in the scarcely unoccupied living room. Not an element had changed yet _everything_ was different.

"Gabriella, are you hungry? I can make us all some lunch" Her mother called from the depths of the refrigerator, already placing old milk, leftovers, and uneaten food atop the counter for disposal.

"Famished actually" she mused with wonder. For the first time in what felt like days, she experienced hunger.

Troy returned from the hallway, satisfied that the welcome warmth was already radiating across the vents.

Gabriella sat curled upon the edge of the beige couch; her legs tucked under her backside, her head nestled upon the armrest.

Troy took a seat beside her, instinctively lifting her feet to rest across his lap. It was a familiar gesture that gave them both the slightest renewal of old habits. Her heavy eyelids dragged upwards to meet his gaze where he smiled a small grin. Although she couldn't bring herself to return the gesture, he saw the hopeful look in her eyes that she was able to muster and gave a reassured pat across her calves. He knew it would take effort and some time before she felt like smiling- but from here on out he'd be praying for the day that luminosity would appear and brighten her face once again.

With Gabriella peacefully napping, Troy flipped on the television, stopping on a movie network and turning the volume down low so as not to disturb the resting woman cuddled against the plush cushions.

He'd vaguely registered the sound of sizzling meats and a wafting odor of baking but nothing prepared him for the onslaught of appetizingly fresh home-cooked food Miss Montez began to set down on the coffee table.

"Wow…" he breathed taking in the small dish of casserole, rolls, and bowl of fruit salad. A pitcher of iced tea was set down and Troy chuckled to himself.

"Gabriella had all this in the apartment?"

"I've had years of practice with how particular Gabriella can be. It's honed my creativity in the kitchen" she whispered back.

At the sound of her name, Troy checked beside him to the restful form. She slumbered quietly and although he hated to wake her, couldn't remember the last time he'd witnessed her properly eating food since before being admitted to the hospital. If she could eat just enough to satiate her for the remainder of the day he'd feel a whole lot better.

"Gabs?" he quietly called.

She sighed deeply.

"Gabi? Time to wake up. Your mom made lunch."

Miss Montez was collecting napkins from the kitchen and Troy bent over Gabriella so his mouth was mere centimeters away from her earlobe.

"Baby, wake up" he lightly urged.

"Mmmm" she moaned, stretching feline-like at the deep rumbling of his voice.

"What?"

"Your mom cooked for us" Troy repeated, pointing at the clustered coffee table filled with steaming piles of food.

"There's some fruit I found for the salad, rolls, and I whipped up a casserole. It's just potatoes, sausage, a little bit of onions, and cheese. Troy, you eat sausage right?"

"If it's on this table, I'll definitely eat it. Thank you so much Miss Montez, this looks great."

"You two eat as much as you like. There's plenty for seconds."

"Thanks mom" Gabriella yawned a little, covering her small hand over her mouth before piling a dish with two rolls, a healthy amount of casserole, and a serving of fruit. Troy silently rejoiced that her appetite was in tact, waiting for her to spoon out her portions and get her fill before helping himself to several rolls and casserole.

They ate in relative silence. Every now and then a stray comment would erupt, but the room filled with the sound of forks scraping against plates and the tinkering of ice cubes clinking against glass.

Gabriella chewed the last bit of her third roll thoughtfully, contemplated eating another, but settled herself down upon the couch once more. She just felt so tired. She'd slept fairly well at the hospital, but upon her discharge the energy felt sucked right out of her.

A garbled mutter of another "thanks mom" tumbled from her lips before the heavy rasp of her breathing initiated.

Her mother and Troy finished their lunch, conversing quietly amongst themselves about nothing in particular- the weather, his as of yet-unplanned graduation party, and the state of her flower bed. Eventually they both quieted and he helped her seal away the leftovers and tuck the soiled plates into the dishwasher.

Troy filled the sink with soapy water while she began to jot down a list.

"Troy, will you open the fridge and tell me if there's butter in there?"

He dutifully swung open the large door and peered inside.

"Mmhm" he nodded.

She continued scribbling down items compiling together a rather expansive grocery list.

"I'm going to head to the grocery store. She's probably not feeling up for doing it herself right now and I'd like to know she's got everything already here should she need it. "

She called out a goodbye over her shoulder and walked out the front door.

Troy leaned his weight upon his elbows, shoving both hands through his hair as the sound of Miss Montez's engine pulling away grew distant inside the cozy kitchen.

He looked up and watched Gabriella's chest rise and fall. She had shifted onto her back, both arms draped across her lower abdomen. Her right leg lay outstretched in front of her, the right limb bent at the knee resting upon the back cushion.

It was a normal position she'd end up sprawled atop the couch countless times before. If he thought back, he could remember those days vividly, not feeling the ever-growing void that filled the reminiscent memories of times that felt so recent… less afflicted.

He was pulled from his thoughts when a whimper floated in his direction. Wanting her to sleep soundly in the familiarity of her room, Troy walked over to the couch and bent down.

In one effortless movement, he slid his arms under her back and knees with an expertise only one could gain from years of repetition, and lifted her.

Like a haunting, visions of the last time he'd hoisted her body in the air this way flooded his sight. He winced, willing the demons away for now so he could complete the task at hand- tucking his sleepy girlfriend safely into bed.

He huffed, forcing the gory details out of his mind and felt Gabriella stir as he stalked toward her bedroom.

"Troy?" she questioned, her voice child-like and thickly coated with sleep.

"I'm here. I'm just putting you to bed so you can sleep a little more comfy. You want to take a quick bath first?" he gently queried.

"Mmm" she sung in the back of her throat.

Her dark curls brushed against his arm as she nodded her head in approval at the idea.

"Lemme just run some water, I'll be right back" he promised, gently setting her down against the billowy purple down comforter.

He marched into the bathroom, easily locating a bottle of her favorite bubble bath. The aroma of lavender and cream began to fill the tiny room. He bent over and quickly tested the temperature of the water and adjusted the knobs to even out the steamy liquid. Satisfied after having dipped his hand back into the tub once more, he wiped the moisture against his jeans and returned to her room.

To his delight Gabriella had fought the aching desire to simply fall back asleep and was already discarding of her sweatpants in the laundry hamper tucked in the corner of her bedroom.

She turned, presenting a vision of cascading raven locks and tanned silken skin. Troy rubbed the back of his neck, feeling almost bashful at catching her in such a state.

"Your bath is ready."

"Okay."

Her exhausted head lifted, allowing Troy to stare deeply into her sunken orbs. They hadn't spoken volumes to one another because there was virtually _so_ much to say.

'_I need you.'_

'_I'm sorry.'_

'_I'm scared.'_

'_Help me.'_

'_Help __**me**__.'_

The withered remains of the woman he loved tugged at the hem of her over-size shirt she'd worn home from the hospital revealing her nude form, exposing herself to him.

It was a raw reality to see her stripped of all barriers. Alongside the endowment of her diary, her actions spoke another wordless submission of letting him inside. He had to see everything- all of her, every flawed inch of flesh and despondent thoughts were left wide open for his observation and judgment. His journey into her innermost crevices and hidden nooks was now commencing.

Without breaking his gaze with her, he slowly walked forward until he was flush against her body.

Her eyes misted over almost instantly causing her knees to buckle and she was abruptly left sitting bedside, cradling her head in her hands as a series of guttural sobs racked her petite body.

Unflinching, Troy bent forward and gathered her into his arms. She quickly melted into the embrace, tightly wrapping her legs around his waist, interlocking her feet at the small of his back. Her hands sunk into the firm mass of muscles at his shoulders. Her sobbing increased, leaving her sputtering and gasping for breath.

He smoothed his large hands up and down her back, consoling her and simultaneously making his way into the bathroom.

The sweet scented air drifted into her senses, having a hypnotic-like effect on her troubled state. Softly the sobs died down to a light whimper, interrupted with a sniffle here and there.

Gripping her bare backside firmly he used his right hand to caress her cheek and lean her head back so that their eyes could meet.

"You ready?"

She nodded.

He felt her clamped thighs ease the strong lock from around his torso and he guided her feet into the water at a slow enough pace where she could adjust naturally to the contrast of cold limbs against warm water.

Eventually, her body was fully immersed within the foamy liquid.

He dipped his hand into the tub and retracted with her right arm. Tugging at the frayed end, he began unraveling the day old gauze from around her wrist.

Her tears resumed.

She didn't want him to see this. Maybe letting him in wasn't such a good idea. It wasn't too late to slam all the doors shut once more.

He felt her struggle against the hold he had on her arm.

"Brie…" he called, barely above a whisper.

Tear stumbled down her rounded cheeks, mixing in with the bathwater as her head hung down in shame.

"…don't push me away" he pleaded, slowly continuing to maneuver the bandage from her wrists when the pulling she'd done earlier ceased.

She continued to cry as he tossed the discarded fabric into a wastebasket. He watched her carefully as he lowered her arm back into the water, waiting for any signs of discomfort.

"Okay?"

She shook her head up and down, continuing to silently weep as he reached for her left arm to remove the gauze covering the healing wounds and stitches.

After he'd thrown away all the tape and excess dressings, he gave her a moment to compose herself. He knew this was probably the most difficult thing they'd ever been through- together or separately.

His skilled hands massaged up around her shoulder blades, down over the curve of her breasts, sinking beneath the soapy water to rub against her stomach with the loofah he'd snatched up that hung from the faucet.

Her tear-soaked eyelashes blinked in curiosity as he left the loofah nestled upon her lap and lifted both her hands from the water.

Troy shifted his weight so he was kneeling on both knees and brought his face down.

Tenderly, he kissed the sensitive battle wounds carved across her broken flesh before expertly releasing his grip and continuing his massage down her legs.

They felt the water grow tepid and Gabriella stood dripping wet, huddling her shivering body against the fluffy towel he held open for her.

His arms wrapped around her shoulders and his nose pressed against her damp tendrils, breathing in her scent before he stepped back, allowing her to grip the edges of the terry cloth with her fingers.

She shuffled toward the bedroom, standing alongside him patiently as he located one of her favorite Harvard t-shirts and a pair of checkered lounge shorts.

She knelt over him, one hand holding up the towel, the other upon his shoulder to balance her while she lifted one foot, then the other as he pulled the elastic waistband around the indent of her waist. Her arms lifted above her head and he pulled down the shirt, first letting her head slip through, then her arms.

He placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead as she snuggled underneath the covers.

"You need anything else?"

"No."

"Okay, I'll just be out in the living room. I think your mom should be back soon from the store."

"All right."

She watched his retreating form and saw him halt.

He turned around and came to sit next to her.

"Troy?" she asked.

Her angelic voice startled him as he'd been deep in contemplation.

"I don't know if this kind of question is like, even allowed or not-"he clumsily began, "but, is it okay for me to ask you questions? With the journal?" he added.

She figured he'd have questions and was waiting for when he'd inquire further about some of her entries.

Hesitantly, she took a shaky inhale of air. Although she'd mentally tried to prepare for this, it felt different when he actually spoke the words aloud.

His brow was creased, worried he'd overstepped a boundary, upset her, pried too deep, asked too much of her, pushed harder than she was ready to step-

"Yes."

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you."

"Yes" she repeated a little softer this time, indicating clearly in her tone that it was okay.

She could feel his tense body release at this and watched him retract once more from the room.

"Nite Gabi" his voice echoed against the walls.

"Goodnight."

* * *

Troy emerged from the depths of Gabriella's bedroom, leaving the door cracked open in case she called out to him in the course of the evening.

He pulled out a chair and collapsed. He looked across the table at the various orange bottles, gauze pads, and medical supplies. His breathing was labored, nostrils flaring with the severity of his promise he was currently making to himself.

He would take charge. He would help bring her back.

A jingling of metal at the door caught his attention and he quickly jumped up to assist her mother.

"Thanks Troy" she huffed, relieved when he'd greeted her at the door and immediately took the heavy brown bags into his arms.

He set them on the counter and followed her outside, gathering another round of parcels to take inside the home.

The pair made two more trips outside before Miss Montez lowered the back latch and pressed the automatic lock button on her keychain.

Together, they stored various jars, boxes, and packages of food within the kitchen. Troy settled down into one of the barstools at the countertop to watch as she began cutting strips of chicken, celery, carrots, lime, cilantro, and a medley of assorted spicy smelling vegetables.

"Do you want any help?" he offered.

"No dear, you just take a breather."

"Okay. Gabriella is sleeping. She took a bath and I gave her one Tylenol 3 and one Cephalexin."

"Did she need an Ambien?"

"Nah, she was pretty tired already."

Miss Montez extracted a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and plucked a cup from one of the cabinets. She handed the glass to Troy who gave a thankful smile.

"You didn't have to do that, thank you."

"My pleasure. So, how are your parents?" she casually asked, peeling an onion and dicing it into small pieces.

"They're all right. My mom is sort of stressing about some redecorating."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, my dad decided to knock out a wall in the living room. He wants a sun room."

"A sun room should be a nice addition."

"Yeah, I guess. My dad is always doing these odd-ball 'do it yourself' type projects. It's probably going to take a year or two before it's done.

Miss Montez lightly chuckled at this.

"How is Jack?" she implored, mixing the already tantalizing smelling contents of the large pot on the stove.

"Good. The new batch of wildcats are going to state so you know, he's obviously in heaven."

A few years ago that simple comment would have been laced with a biting tone of annoyance, but Troy and his father had smoothed out some of the differences that plagued their relationship during high school after Troy decided to go to UIC on a full ride athletic scholarship. That didn't stop him from auditioning (and securing) several lead roles in a few on-campus plays. Surprisingly, his father supported the idea that Troy stretch his hand at the performing arts without an ounce of mockery.

"Ah, the wildcats" she mused.

"Do you miss it at all?"

"What, Albuquerque?"

"Yeah, I mean you and Gabriella weren't there for very long but you both seemed to enjoy it while you were there, right?"

"I do miss it sometimes. There's nothing like that mountain-side backdrop first thing in the morning. But, this move worked out well for me. It was even better when Gabriella moved out here for grad school."

"Yeah…" his voice trailed off and he took a long swig of the citrusy juice in his hand.

She continued her dicing and peeling as Troy looked on.

He watched as she extracted a package of ground beef, parsley, egg, and breadcrumbs, setting them out across the counter.

"Does that go with that?" he asked, punctuating 'that' by jabbing his index finger from the new items to the already simmering pot.

"No, no. This is for the meatloaf."

"Oh."

He took another sip of juice. For the next several minutes he focused on watching her cook.

She kneaded the meat, mixing equal parts of breadcrumbs and making sure to carefully crack the eggs in such a way where none of the shell would fall into the mixture. Her movements were graceful and unrushed- much like how Gabriella looked while cooking.

"When Gabriella was little and would get sick, I'd make her chicken tortilla soup. This was the magic touch to get her to eat a little bit no matter how much she fussed."

Troy smiled to himself at the mental image of a stubborn young Gabriella defiantly refusing certain foods. She _was_ the pickiest eater he'd come to know through the years.

"She'll eat this. Even if she tells you she's not hungry. If there's tortilla soup in the fridge or freezer slowly but surely it will start to disappear."

"That's good to know" Troy nodded, thankful for the tip and storing the information in the back of his mind so he wouldn't fret too much over her eating habits during the next few days.

The faraway look in her eyes as she was apparently remembering her little girl caused Troy to speak aloud.

"You're such a good mom."

Her face fell immediately and he stiffened, terrified he'd somehow offended the woman. His mind raced as he fought an internal battle. Should he speak up? Apologize? Leave? Act like he'd said nothing? What if-

"I'm such a good mother that it may be my downfall" she whispered to no one in particular.

She halted her stirring and went to the sink to rinse her hands. Leaning back against the counter, she glanced up to get a good look at Troy.

"You see, I'm able to keep promises with my daughter which kept you in the dark. I'm not sure if that was perhaps the right or wrong choice given-"she cleared her throat of the tickling sensation she suddenly felt, "given what has happened."

She'd said it. The very thing they'd been skirting around all day was out in the open now. Neither was sure what to say. A mother had almost lost a daughter and a boyfriend, his girlfriend.

After an uncomfortably long stretch of silence, she spoke once more.

"I'm going to need your help, Troy. I think-" she paused, thoughtfully looking at the ceiling, clasping her hands together, and lightly tapping both pointer fingers against her chin, "I think we're going to need to help one another through this. Gabriella needs both of us. She's not going to be able to get better with just my aide alone, and she won't be able to rely solely on you either. We're all going to need to be strong in this together."

Troy's heart soared at this. He'd already made a pact with himself earlier in the evening that he'd make it his sole mission to be there for Gabriella. He wasn't going anywhere. If she needed space, he'd give her space, silence, distractions, hugs, kisses, a mere shoulder to cry on... He'd be those things for her. It made him feel good to be needed- not just by Gabriella, but now by her own mother. They were a team with their end goal being to see through to it that an incredible woman gets back on her feet again.

"Miss Montez, I promise I will do whatever I have to do to protect her. I'm prepared to be here for the good and the bad- and the _really_ bad" he added.

"She let me in by giving me her journal and I'm going to read every word in the hopes that I can understand her a little better. I love her and seeing her through this is _the_ most important thing right now."

Her mother smiled at this and the two shared another quiet moment. She allowed her gaze to fall upon the boiling liquid and walked back over to the stove to peer inside.

Looking over her shoulder, she asked,

"Want to be the official taste tester?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I barely made it with this posting (it's 11:01pm PST). I promised one update per week and I'm going to do my best to hold to that.

Thanks: To **my boyfriend** for speaking on Troy's male behalf. I love that you don't mind giving me help with writing HSM fanfic, you're awesome. **Kylie (CJxoxDancerella)**, you are my medical guru and I owe a lot of the accuracy of medications to you. DIY dad is totally for you. To **Dani (Pandora147)** thank you for being my "Beta". Thanks so much for the help, it's sincerely appreciated.

*Side note: To any **Hanson** fans out there (I saw them the House of Blues on 11.14) - do yourself a favor and see a show. They're currently on tour and it's been about 6 years since I've seen them live. They're even better the second go round.

I tried to make this chapter a bit longer as an apology of sorts for the late posting. Ch.7 introduces the first rift between a concerned (perhaps overprotective) Troy and Gabriella.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: All lyrics used belong to Coldplay.**_

_**Everything I know is wrong **_

_**Everything I do it just comes undone**_

_**And everything is torn apart**_

_**Oh and that's the hardest part**_

_**-Coldplay "The Hardest Part"**_

* * *

"Your medical leave extends to the end of the winter semester. I see here that you've allotted to continue utilizing University health care throughout your absence."

"Mmhm" she dumbly nodded.

"It looks like we've received all the proper paperwork and documents needed. Are there any other questions or concerns you have?"

"No."

"You have the direct number to the admissions office and your DOS?"

"Yes."

"Well, best of luck Miss Montez. We look forward to your return."

Gabriella stared into the hopeful beaming eyes of the Registrar clerk. She herself had nothing to smile about, resolving to simply turn on her heel and quietly exit the large, red brick building into the awaiting white SUV.

Troy offered a sympathetic glance in her direction. She shoved the stack of signed papers into the side compartment causing his brow to crease with concern.

He began to open his mouth and figured it best to not try and overanalyze the situation and give her space. Revving up the engine, he set off down the relatively empty campus side streets toward her apartment.

As the Durango made its way throughout the neighborhood, Gabriella let her sad eyes drift to the slightly frost-bitten window pane. Her breath formed a hazy circular mist of tiny dew drops and she watched as the condensation evaporated once she inhaled.

Virtually overnight, she'd lost control of her life.

* * *

Later that evening with Troy having set up camp in her living room to begin studying for a Geology II exam he had the next morning, Gabriella soundlessly rolled over on the couch.

The television at some point had been turned on; the volume was low emitting a dull buzz from the speakers.

There was nothing to say. The disarray of emotions seemed to float lazily within her sluggish mind. The meds didn't help either, keeping her peacefully sedated. She knew this temporary state of numb would wear off. Already the contents of the orange bottle bearing a "Tylenol 3" label were withering down to single digits. With each administering of pills she dreaded even more the coming days when consummating clarity would crash into her world.

"Shit…" Troy mumbled, furiously attacking the notebook in front of him with an eraser.

Focusing in his direction she watched as he brushed the bits of dust to the floor and chewed the end of his pencil thoughtfully. His shaggy chestnut locks fluttered in his eyesight, swinging slowly each time he blinked.

With more effort than she felt comfortable having to admit that it took to execute, Gabriella swung her legs over the cushions and sat upright.

Immediately Troy was on his feet, already striding over toward her but her hand was up, indicating she was fine.

"I'm just gonna shower before I go to bed."

"Do you want me to make you anything for dinner after you're done? I think there's still some of your mom's tortilla so-"

The dismissive shake of her head interrupted him.

"Just the shower. I'm tired."

He wanted her back in that moment. The 'old' Gabriella. The woman who stood before him was a jilted, muted version of her former self. He missed her, and there was no way that his expressing how much he yearned for her was going to penetrate the darkness of her eyes. He'd have to wait for the light to come back. He frowned at the fleeting idea of 'What if it doesn't come back?'

She waited awkwardly for him to gather his thoughts. She could tell he wanted to say something and found an overwhelming amount of patience when truly she wanted to turn away from him. It was just easier that way. She didn't have to feel his eyes watching her or sense his presence as she slept comfortably. It was a self-punishment in some ways that she was inflicting, convincing herself that she somehow did not deserve his love or concern. Not after what she'd done.

"Look at me" he finally pleaded.

She fought to struggle down a sob of anguish.

His eyes welled upon the bitter truth that she didn't even want to look him in the eye.

Painfully, she watched as he made a movement to return to his seat and continue studying. It was as if she could visualize him tucking his wounded heart in hand.

"Troy…"

Jaw clenched in an attempt to fight back the tears that threatened to spill forth at any moment, he allowed his blazing sapphire orbs to shift toward her.

He was met with the site of her eyes and the stony gaze all but disintegrated.

No words were exchanged but it was a start for him to know that she heard him.

She saw him.

She still needed him.

Their connection was short lived. Gabriella tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, biting the tender skin before she abruptly broke contact and retreated into her bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Troy stood, conflicted by the overhaul of emotions he felt. Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days as his jumbled mind tried to make sense of her curt actions. It felt like he was teetering upon the cusp of figuring it out…whatever _it_ may be. The answer he sought was just out of reach. He let out an exasperated sigh, running a free hand through his tousled locks before he returned to the small dining room table to push forward in his studies.

Inside the bathroom Gabriella untied her up-swept hair, allowing for the buoyant curls to drape carelessly over her petite shoulders. Once the water warmed enough she gingerly stepped inside the tub and instantly felt better as a heated comfort made its way across her nimble body.

Both hands went to her matted locks and she massaged her scalp under the running shower-head. She groped blindly for her shampoo, grasped the bottle, and squeezed a healthy amount of gel into her hands evenly dispersing the bubbling suds throughout her dampened waves.

A heavy vapor permeated the small space, fogging the glass screen and she reached out a hand to doodle aimlessly alongside the hard surface.

Her mind drifted back to just a little over a year ago when she'd told Troy she was accepted, and taking the offer to study business at Northwestern.

_Troy folded a pair of powder blue gym shorts and stacked them on the increasingly high towering pile._

"_Troy, those are going to fall over" Gabriella warned._

"_What? Nah, it's cool. I'm almost done."_

"_What happened in here anyways?" she questioned, looking around at the haphazardly strewn mixture of dirty and clean clothes draped across the backs of chairs, headboards, and absent-mindedly discarded on the floor._

"_What do you mean what happened?" his brow furrowed as he stacked another pair of red mesh shorts._

"_It looks like a battlefield… a battle you lost" she teased._

"_Ow" he pouted, jutting his bottom lip out and feigning hurt._

"_Poor baby…" she cooed._

_Smiling, he turned his attention back to the growing pile of tidy garments._

"_So, there's something I want to talk to you about. Do we still have reservations tonight?"_

"_Yeah. Is everything okay? I can cancel if you need me to. They don't charge unless it's twenty minutes before the reservation time."_

"_No, no! I want to go, we've been on the list forever."_

_Troy looked relieved. _

"_Good, 'cuz I'm pretty psyched to go too. Chad says it's supposed to have amazing flank steaks. You'd think Sharpay would just like, let us skip the whole bullshit wait-list thing and just get us in. We've known her for years now. We're all friends."_

"_She has a real job now Troy- remember? Nine to five, she puts on a suit-"_

"_Sharpay wouldn't be caught dead in a suit" he dead-panned._

"_Okay, true. But, she's doing us a favor. This isn't one of her dad's business clients. Wolfgang is her go-to caterer. _

"_I just don't think it'd kill her to bump a few people off the list and get you and I a table for two" he sulked._

"_Just bump a few people off, eh?" she jeered, a smirk playing upon her lips._

"_Yeah, just a little push, ya know?"_

_She realized he wasn't joking._

"_You're being completely serious right now aren't you?"_

_Troy half-nodded, his concentration being more on extracting a buried t-shirt from underneath his twin extra long mattress._

"_We're eating for free!" she exclaimed._

"_I know, but we're eating for free two whole months after this place already opened" he griped._

_Shaking her head in disdain, Gabriella chuckled to herself._

"_Do you want to talk about it now?" Troy implored._

"_Talk about what?" she wrinkled her nose, forgetting momentarily their prior conversation having been distracted by his dramatic antics._

"_I don't know. You said you had something to talk about." He strode over to the desk chair where she sat and pretended to rap against the side of her head._

"_Hello McFly?" he softly laughed._

_For a brief moment, her blank stare only caused him to delight in further mirth before her eyes snapped into focus, once again remembering her previous statement._

"_Oh! Yes, so there is something I'd like to discuss. It's not detrimental in the least, but it looks as though I have dotted all my I's and crossed every 'T'. The decision wasn't easy, it took some time ,and I've been traveling the last few months visiting different campuses whenever I get the chance, although you already know that…" she digressed._

_Troy's eyes widened._

"_Gabi, what are you talking about?"_

"_Huh?"_

"_You're not really making any sense babe" he resumed tucking the sheets into the sides of his bed._

"_You know I'm applying for and looking into which grad schools I may attend."_

"_Mmhm" he grunted, attempting to shimmy the fitted sheet onto the mattress._

"_Well, I've listed the entire potential pros and cons for each of the specific schools. Cornell has an amazing medical program, but I'm not entirely sold on their B-school. Stanford's law program is precise and well-rounded but I'm not sure the atmosphere of Silicon Valley is really for me…" she drawled on._

_Troy scratched his head in bewilderment at her ramblings and stood upright._

"_Gabriella, what are you trying to say?"_

"_IacceptedfallenrollmentatNorthwestern'sschoolofbusiness!" tumbled out of her mouth at an alarmingly fast rate._

_Simultaneously, the stack of freshly arranged laundry plummeted to the ground._

_She and Troy both stared for some time at the rumpled mass of clothing._

_Gabriella was biting her lip and wringing her hands nervously, fearing he either hadn't heard her correctly, that he was upset with the destroyed pile of clothes, or even worse, a mixture of both._

_Troy was breathing hard, nostrils flared as his gaze shifted from the garments to her worrisome eyes._

"_Are you ma-" she began, but quickly found herself engrossed within the strength of his arms and felt the sensation of her feet being lifted off the ground in a tight gripped bear hug._

"_You're moving here?!?" he exclaimed, his eyes clouding joyously._

"_I'm moving here!" she shrieked, burying her head back into the crook of his neck and crying out happily with laughter as he spun her around the room, trampling over and wrinkling the clothing beneath his feet._

The water ran cold now and goose bumps formed across the plains of her skin.

She sighed and wrenched the knobs shut. While towel drying off, she looked at the glass where she'd listlessly written during the course of her shower.

_57 3.65435E+11, 56 2.25851E+11, 55 1.39584E+11, 54 86267571272, 53 53316291173, 52 32951280099, 51 20365011074, 50 12586269025, 49 7778742049 …_

With a last wringing of her moist curly tendrils into the towel, she used the damp cloth to quickly clean the glass of the drawings.

What no one would ever know was the numerical sequence tallied. She'd solved Fibonacci numbers… in reverse.

* * *

The next day, Troy sat alongside Chad in their Geology II class. Their T.A. was busy, strategically handing back the first midterm.

"Gabs all right?"

"Yeah man, she's doing okay. Hey, is Taylor still going to swing by before practice later?"

"Yeah, why? Dude she won't give you her notes from Geology. I already tried working that angle and got denied."

Troy chuckled at this.

"No, I'm not looking to borrow her notes; I just had a quick question for her."

"Cool. She's meeting me early, so you can ask her yourself."

"Sweet. Thanks man."

"Bolton, Troy!" called the lanky upper classman.

"Here" he raised his hand.

Handing him the test face-down the man made his way over to the other side of the room.

Troy flipped the Scantron over and winced. A red '75%' glared up from the page.

"Ouch dude…" Chad whispered.

"What?" Troy shifted uncomfortably.

"I thought _I_ did bad."

"What'd you get?"

"An eighty-one percent. It's still a 'C'."

Troy shoved the paper into his folder.

"Did you not finish on time or something?" he pressed.

"This past week has been hell, literally. I _just_ found time to study last night for the fucking test we took today."

Chad nodded. It was a fair enough answer to an honest question.

"It's just one test dude. We'll partner up for the final. Hell, maybe I can sweet-talk Taylor into at least giving me her flashcards."

Chad flashed a winning smile and extended forth a closed fist to which Troy mimicked his actions and they gave one another a light hand-pound. Troy's lopsided attempt at a smile wavered as the sinking feeling that already he was struggling with his school-load seeped into his mind.

After class, the two friends made their way down the Geology building's vaulted ceiling corridors and stepped out into the adjacent quad area. Taylor was already perched upon a table, bundled in a festive-looking green knitted scarf and mitts set.

Troy eased the sides of his grey beanie over the tops of his red earlobes and followed Chad.

"Hey boys" Taylor smiled, happily welcoming a meaningful kiss from Chad. Instinctively, he rubbed her gloved hands between his to warm her up.

"Hey Tay."

"Troy has a question for you."

Troy scoffed at Chad.

"What?! You do!" he defended.

"What's up Troy?

"Well, um. Seeing as you know Chad's schedule so well…"

"Better than he does…" she muttered loud enough for both boys to hear.

Chad opened his mouth to object and stopped himself.

"So anyways, you have his time tables practically memorized which means you know my schedule pretty well too…"

Troy looked up to see Chad shaking his head solemnly at his lame attempt to converse and narrowed his eyes.

"Troy? I can safely guarantee that whatever you're going to ask I'll most likely say yes to. Or, I'll at least try and help you come up with a good resolution" she sincerely offered.

He let out a sigh of thanks and continued "Can you maybe keep an eye on Gabriella for me? When I can't be there?"

He kicked at a stray rock, nervous that maybe he was coming across needy and overbearing.

"Sure. Of course" she firmly resolved, nodding her head in agreement.

"We live ten minutes away and I'm there all the time anyway. I'll just pop in during some of my class breaks. Mid terms just finished so I'm not at the library as much. The added company might help…" her voice trailed off, not finishing the thought that her company might help Gabriella not feel so alone.

"Could you maybe try and be kind of, you know…" Troy bumbled.

"Subtle? Most definitely" Taylor provided the words for him.

"Thanks Tay. Really, I appreciate it."

"No problem" she rubbed his arm re-assuredly.

* * *

During the course of the next few days Troy felt a minute ease in stress knowing Taylor was spending her free time at Gabriella's home while he channeled as much of his focus he could muster into basketball practices and academia.

Their first game of the NCAA Championships was fast approaching and the team still had a long ways to go in perfecting key plays and strategies in handling the ball against the CU Buffs, a school known for their towering forwards and point guards; no member of the team stood shy of 6'5". Although UIC had strong, agile players, Troy knew the difference in height could prove difficult on the court.

"Ready? BREAK! All right guys, hit the showers!" Troy roared after a grueling night-time practice.

He and Chad slowly inched toward the locker room, feeling the pull and burn of worked muscles.

"We got this, Hoops?"

"Just figuring out a couple new behind-the-back plays I wanna run tomorrow."

"Nice. Fuck you C-U!" Chad clapped his hand across Troy's back.

After a quick shower and brief meeting with the assistant coach, Troy pulled up, just after 9pm to Gabriella's quaint apartment. Her porch light was on and he smiled at the tell-tale sign that she was still awake.

Fishing a ring of keys out of his coat pocket he let himself into the abode, pausing to fasten the lock behind him.

Her bedroom door was unshut but no light reflected from the room. Setting down his book bag, he rummaged within the contents of her refrigerator plucking a package of sliced turkey, mayo, mustard, tomato, and head of lettuce, placing the items atop the counter.

Locating sliced bread, Troy assembled the perfect looking sandwich, standing back to admire his work. He reached over to drop the used knife into the sink and missed. He winced at the clacking noise the metal against tile made and was stopped mid-bend as he went to pick up the object.

The silver glinted in the light and a thought crept into his mind. Forgetting to pick up the dirtied utensil, he glanced back toward Gabriella's bedroom. Seeing no change in the flickering on of a light, he quickly found an unused, clear plastic bin atop her storage closet.

Once back in the kitchen he made a hurried task at placing every sharp object he could find into the Tupperware.

Knives, can openers, corkscrews, a food processor blade… his hands frantically grabbed at whatever dangerous, pointed edge items he could find.

During his frenetic actions, he failed to notice the raven haired woman watching him from the doorway.

"Troy?"

He halted, hand grasped around a cluster of corn on the cob holders. He swallowed before turning to greet her.

"Uh, hi."

"What are you doing?" she pointedly nodded her head toward the container.

His guilty eyes stared at the appliances.

She'd already pieced together what he was doing. His silence sparked a fuse inside wherein she made a bee-line for the bin, holding up a sharp butcher knife before thrusting it back down.

"Do you not trust me?" she practically hissed.

Hesitation blocked his vocal chords.

"Are you _really_ asking me that?" he truthfully questioned.

"I know this looks bad-"he began.

An irritated noise bubbled from her mouth.

"I know you could break glass or use any other sharp thing around here if you _truly_ wanted to hurt yourself. I thought maybe by taking those things out of view maybe…" he sighed in frustration, raking a shaky hand through his hair, "maybe it might stop the idea from even being there in the first place. It's stupid, but I was willing to take the risk of you being mad if it means keeping you safe."

"You'll go crazy if you try and remove every thing that can hurt me!" she cried.

Feeling caught off guard by her raised voice, his head snapped up.

"While you're at it, you better take out all the electric outlets, the aloe-strip covered blade in my razor, my belts, take away the toaster- find me some padded room to live in!"

With a loud crash he dropped the bin and stomped over to the sliding glass door in order to stop himself from saying something he'd regret while caught up in the moment.

The booming sound caused her to jump back, watching helplessly as his form retreated outside.

* * *

He silently fumed in a self-perpetuated hurricane of insults internally hurtled at himself. He was a bad boyfriend, insensitive, selfish…

'_How can you be arguing with her so soon after what just happened?!'_

Head buried in the palm of his hands and eyes shut tightly, Troy sat hunched over atop one of Gabriella's green lawn chairs.

He heard her footsteps and did not lift his face but pried open his eyes.

Two small hands still bearing the scars of self mutilation materialized before his vision.

She reached behind his head, interlocking her fingers at the base of his neck, and bent forward, whispering in his ear that,

"I'm trying to understand this, Troy. But, I'm going to need for you to start dealing with it."

"I'm sorry…"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thank you Dani (**Pandora147**) for the words on the foggy glass scene- it's beautiful imagery that I can't take credit for. Again, to **the bf **for "being Troy" and helping me with Fibonacci numbers. "Jump back" Dee (did you notice that?!) I'm sorry for no update last week- no excuses, I was late. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: All movie quotes by Steven Rogers**_

"_**Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most."**_

_**-"Hope Floats"**_

An elder, graying gentleman walked up and down the lecture hall aisles, handing back a second BCOM test.

"Danforth…" his scholarly voice boomed.

"…Bolton."

Troy glanced down and quickly stuffed the paper into his backpack before rising from his seat. To the classes' delight their professor had announced they were free to leave early after receiving their midterm papers.

"How'd you do, man?"

"B minus" Troy smiled.

"See? There you go captain!" Chad happily exclaimed, clapping a reassuring hand across his back.

The two made their way behind the throng of students clamoring through the double doors to enjoy their now freed up afternoon.

"Wanna head over to the Courier to grab something to eat?"

Brief hesitation washed over Troy. Feeling almost certain that Taylor was at Gabriella's apartment given that Thursdays were her free day, he nodded his head.

"Sure man."

* * *

A chirpy college-age hostess seated the boys, lingering a bit longer than necessary having recognized the two as the UIC Flames' handsome captain and co-captain.

Amused, Chad beamed brightly at the girl relishing in the admiration.

Troy glanced in her direction, noted the smug regaled look on his best friend's face and discretely rolled his eyes.

"Thanks" he offered, hoping to move her along

"Do you guys need anything else?" she sighed, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. Chad's smile grew and Troy had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

The two were used to their fair share of admirers and female fans.

Troy bashfully lowered his eyes and tended to shy away from the spotlight, feeling rather uncomfortable with the attention. He took his captain leadership responsibilities very serious. There was little time to play and no room for error in judgment. Where he oftentimes came across much more austere, Chad however had practically come into this world laughing.

He found it highly entertaining to give the girls a rouse from time to time.

_After having won the opening home game of the season, Chad and Troy had finally torn themselves from the aggressively eager media journalists and provided their last charming sound bites for the press._

_Walking side by side down the locker room hallway and feeling the welcome rush of cold air against their sweaty faces, a sharp intake of breath reached their ears followed by several high pitched noises that could only be indentified as something akin to shrieking hyenas._

"_Troooooooy!"_

"_Ohmygodcongratulations!"_

"_Chad! Chad! You did great out there!"_

"_Troy!"_

"_Chad!"_

"_Can I get a picture with you?" a bubbly blond exclaimed, holding up her iPhone._

_Although understandably tired, Troy smiled gratefully in the direction of the girls, briefly pausing for several photos and expressing a few 'thank you's'. _

_A brunette slipped a torn receipt into Chad's open palm._

"_I'm Amy" she winked over her shoulder before scurrying off with the group of giggling girls._

"_Bye Amy" Chad called out, waving coyly with a curl of his fingers, causing even more laughter to erupt from the animated bunch._

_Turning on their heels to continue making their way into the parking lot, Troy sighed._

"_Dude, you egg them on."_

"_What?! Don't tell me you don't love it."_

"_I don't love it" Troy deadpanned._

"_Bullshit, Hoops!"_

"_I'm serious. It's weird to have people our age like, fawning over us. Besides dude, you have a fiancée now. Remember that expensive piece of jewelry you just laid down some serious dough on?"_

"_Taylor is the love of my life-"_

"_Awww" Troy interrupted, making a dopey-eyed face._

"_Shut it!" Chad gripped, playfully knocking shoulders with his friend before continuing, "but seriously, she's the one. These others?" he made a motion pointing in the general direction of the still guffawing cluster of females, "I'm just having fun with it. I can't help it if they want us."_

_Troy shook his head._

"_Modest you are not."_

"_I'm just saying- who knows how many of these chicks are already taken and just putting up a front. Regardless, we're going all the way. Next stop is the NBA. The kind of women we'll encounter there? Dude, those are the __**real**__ cougars. But, am I going to disappoint a fan and shoot them down to their faces? Nah man, that's not my style. I can work the angle and give 'em a smile or two. Enough to make them feel special, but nothing that'll get my ass kicked when I have to answer to my girl."_

"_You've given this some thought huh?" Troy inquired, fishing his keys out from his heavy Nike gym bag._

"_And you haven't?"_

_Troy straightened, having located the jumble of clattering metal._

"_I get it. Seriously, I get how it might be 'cool' or whatever to be a fan and seek us out. I'm not gonna pretend to not notice or act like it's not there. I don't even mind posing for a photo or signing an autograph or two, but even if we make it big and go the distance like we want, Gabriella is who I need. None of this means shit if I ever lost her, ya know?"_

"_I don't really have this" Troy emphasized 'this' by pointing to his head, "if I don't have this" he gestured toward his heart._

_Chad's engaged face slowly melted into mocking mortification. He pretended to grab at his throat making choking noises to which Troy took a stance of annoyance._

"_That was sickening!"_

_Troy watched, un-amused, as his friend wiped imaginary tears from his eyes._

_Taking a minute to compose himself, he looked at Troy and in all seriousness asked,_

"_These women have us whipped, don't they?"_

"_Afraid so, sir" Troy happily confirmed._

"_That information stays here in this lot, Bolton. Utter one word of Chad Danforth being whipped and I'll make sure to let it slip to these girls how you cried during the "Fox and the Hound" when we were five."_

"_Secrets' safe with me" he chuckled, putting up both hands proclaiming his innocence._

"Some things never change" Troy snickered.

Chad laughed heartily before the two ordered their drinks, cheeseburger meals, and settled in for a relaxing lunch together.

* * *

After lunch, the two headed back down to the University's East gym to get an early start on practice.

The pair ran five laps around the court before conducting several pass drills.

"Who so serious?" his friend chastised, noticing the grim expression on Troy's face

"Two weeks till the game" Troy grunted.

"We've got this" a determined Chad hoofed, tossing the ball back with ease.

Troy tightly clutched the leather ball within his grasp.

"…And if we don't?" he quietly asked.

Chad frowned. He liked to live in the moment of 'right now' rather than worry in a sea of regret or anticipation of a looming future.

"Then we've made our mark here. We put our names in the draft and go from there."

Troy passed the ball, a vacant look washed over his features.

"You okay?"

It was a loaded question. Three seemingly simple words. Are. You. Okay. In theory, Troy was fine. He had his health; it had been well over two years since he'd experienced so much as a fractured finger or pulled muscle from basketball.

His parents were happily married for twenty-eight years and currently shopping the real estate market to purchase a vacation home in Scottsdale, Arizona.

He had a working vehicle, no debts to pay off, and in the home stretch of earning his bachelors degree. The primary essentials of food, water, and shelter were covered.

In matters of the heart, life had thrown him an entirely unforeseeable wild card that he felt ill-equipped and scared to handle.

Troy passed the ball.

"Yeah, I'm all right."

Chad would have believed Troy a bit more had that evenings' practice been cohesively executed with crisp plays. All their team scrimmages were sloppy and Troy seemed aloof and at times no more than merely physically present. His head was somewhere else.

The visibly upset coach and assistant duo barked that gymnasium practice was over early and sent the team to run the perimeter of the university the last twenty minutes.

"Bolton! Danforth! You two stay behind" their coach ordered.

Troy flicked the wet strands of hair plastered across his forehead from his face with an angry shake of his head.

"Coach I kno-" Chad began.

"I want silence outta you two" the man practically hissed.

"Two weeks" he spat looking the two up and down.

"_**Fourteen**_ days" he leaned in closer to Troy, noses almost touching.

Troy's heated blue eyes stared back in fury; an anger he felt toward himself.

"Figure it out. **NOW**."

With one last seething glare at the two, the irritated men briskly retreated back to the locker room.

Chad watched in slight disdain until they disappeared behind the thick metal doors.

Troy hurled the basketball he held toward the bleachers letting loose an angry shout.

"Hoops…"

"Not now, Chad!"

"If not now, when do you suppose we'll figure this shit out? _After_ we've lost the first leg of the championship?"

"We're not going to fucking lose."

"At this rate, we just might."

Troy loudly clicked his tongue against his teeth, pacing back and forth.

Chad sighed resting both hands atop his bandanna-covered curls.

"You said you were all right. Before practice? I asked were you okay and you said-"

"Well I guess I lied, all right? _Happy_?!"

His brown eyes looked on as Troy snatched up another ball and began to dribble aimlessly.

"Life goes on" he offered.

The dribbling increased.

"Do you think she'd want this?"

The methodical thuds intensified.

"_**Don't**_" Troy warned.

"You're not the only one who almost lost her, man. Jesus!" Chad yelled, throwing both hands in the air.

A hurricane of inky blue pooled into Troy's pupils and his head whipped in the direction of the exasperated man. Somewhere in the distance, the ball slowly bounced to a stop.

"What? Am I not supposed to say anything? Should I turn a blind eye to the fact that your fucking team needs you and you're not okay?! I asked you straight up were you all right."

"You're _**not**_ all right. Coach said to figure this out right here, right now and you're going to listen to me for one god damned minute and wrap your head around what I'm about to say."

"Gabriella isn't dead."

Tears of rage immediately clouded Troy's vision.

"Do you hear me?!"

Troy turned away, feeling his nostrils flare and the rise of his chest beginning to elevate further up and down at the increase of breathing. Unwanted salty tears spilled from his cheeks and he cursed bitterly.

"I know you don't want to hear that because it's hard, but you know it's the truth."

Troy took to one knee, biting his lip to keep from crying out in anguish.

Chad continued,

"None of us saw this coming. I care about her too, Troy. I love Gabriella like a little sister and I don't know what I would have done if things had turned out different" his voice shook dangerously with piercing affection.

Troy's shoulders heaved in response to this.

"I'm scared. Taylor puts on good face, but she is absolutely wrecked. So that probably means you are somewhere _way_ ahead _all_ those emotions. Every one of our friends is _terrified_ right now."

Troy stilled at this, a chilling silence radiating across the empty arena.

"Ryan's' trying to juggle his first Broadway schedule. Kelsi and JC just got married and they are fucking knee-deep in student loans. Zeke just got the financial backing he needs to open a restaurant and there's _no_ guarantee he won't be left without a dime if things don't pan out. I've got the NCAA games, graduation,_ and_ a wedding to plan. It's no comparison to what Gabi is going through or what you must be feeling like but-" he paused to intake a shaky breath,

"I guess what I'm trying to say, is that we're all fucking scared shitless right now, but we're not losing focus. We're not giving up… and neither should you. Gabriella _could_ be gone. I know that. I don't even like to _think_ about it, let alone say that shit out loud, but it's true. She _could_ have died. But that's the thing, Troy. She _**didn't**_. She's still here."

He strode over to his friend and kneeled, wrapping a supporting arm against his back.

"You've got to let go of what _could_ have been and be thankful that she's still here."

Troy looked up, his face stained with tears. He wasn't mad- just adrift within being overwhelmed.

"She's _**still**_ here" Chad firmly repeated. He needed to cement the idea in both their minds. The basketball court was their home turf. If they couldn't be honest and open with one another in the sanctuary of the court, it was unlikely they'd seek solace elsewhere.

Troy blinked back a fresh batch of tears.

"I don't know where all that came from" he attempted to nervously laugh off the strong wave of emotion. Wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands, he shook his head.

"Everything's feeling like one big blur," he sniffled, "My head's just kind of been gone I guess."

"Well for the next two weeks, get it back in the game."

"You're right."

Chad hopped up, extending forth a helping hand for him to latch onto.

Troy pulled him in for a brotherly hug, surprising the man a bit, upon rising to both feet.

"Thank you" he quietly expressed.

"It's what I'm here for, captain."

* * *

Arriving back at his home later that evening, he hastily began packing t-shirts and extra changes of clothing before making the drive over to Gabriella's house with plans to stay there the next two nights.

Unzipping his backpack to load up the textbooks he'd need for studying, his hand closed around the discarded test from that morning.

Extracting the crumpled bunch of pages from his bag, he let out a heavy sigh. His sad eyes roved over the '_49% - See me during office hours' _note scribbled across the top of the page.

* * *

**Author's Note: **A new character (previously mentioned) enters the story in the next chapter as Troy continues his downward spiral. Let me know what you guys thought of this chapter- I know it was Troy and Chad-centric but I needed this conversation to take place.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer: All movie quotes by I. Marlene King and song lyrics are by Queen**_

"_**I say we make a pact. Here and now. We're here for each other, always, no matter what happens in life. [] we remember this day and this pact. Whenever we need a friend, we're here for each other. We can count on it. Always. No matter what."**_

_**-"Now and Then"**_

Troy felt the air in his lungs dissipating, he couldn't seem to catch his breath, and the scalding fire-like heat in his airways forced its way further up the constricted wind chamber.

"C'mon Troy! Pass!"

His frantic eyes looked to the left where he saw Chad wildly waving his arms behind their point guard Derrick.

With the last bit of air he could muster the strength to inhale; he surged forward and threw the ball painfully watching as the orange object ricocheted off the bleachers.

He winced upon hearing the ear-piercing sound of the coach's whistle.

"**BOLTON!** What the hell kind of pass was that?"

"My aim was off coach, I'm so-"

His apology was met by a swift hand gesture indicating he sit out the next play. Stalking over to the bleachers, his exhausted weight fell upon the wooden surface. Looking on through the most vacant of blank expressions, Troy watched as his team conducted practice without him.

* * *

Back at Gabriella's apartment, she quietly fiddled with the remote, aimlessly pressing buttons. Various news anchors, cartoons, and infomercials passed her vision yet nothing peaked her interest enough to stop and watch any of the programs.

Eventually she tired of the channel changes and carelessly tossed the remote onto the coffee table before her.

Her phone beeped and she glanced over contemplating whether or not she'd retrieve the awaiting text message.

Hesitantly, she stretched her small body over to grab at the jet black mobile. Her fingers touched the screen pad and her eyes roved over the message;

_**How are you doing today? I'll be over later; do you want me to pick up dinner on the way? Love you. –T**_

Her reply was brief and to the point;

_**I'm fine. No thanks. See u l8tr.**_

Troy felt his pocket vibrate. He pried the phone open finding himself eager to hear from her, but soon felt his features drop at the swift reply. She was getting better- or so he thought. It had been about two weeks since her release from the hospital and he could have sworn glimmers of the old Gabriella he knew were slowly but surely coming back.

_**Two nights ago…**_

_The two had just finished eating a home-cooked meal of spaghetti, meatballs, and tossed garden salad. Troy busied himself rounding up the dirtied utensils and dishes. _

"_You done with this?" he asked, nodding his head toward her salad bowl._

"_Yeah, thanks."_

_She watched him thoughtfully while he bent over her kitchen sink, filling the tub with warm water and Dawn liquid soap. A small smile graced her features from watching him clean._

_He made his way back over to the table to gather up the last of the plates. He reached over her frame, ready to grab at a dirty napkin when he felt her small hands upon his collar._

_Curious blue and timid brown focused on one another._

_The tiny flecks of amber in her eyes brought him to a place of tranquility- a place he'd missed staring into since her injuries. Most days her gaze deflected every which way but directly on him. He strangely felt that she was actually scared to look him in the eye. He'd found a way thus far to keep the hurt at bay, hold his emotions inside, and not take it personal that she couldn't yet bring herself to converse with him in their usual language of stolen glances and looks of longing unity._

_Her grasp tightened, pulling him closer and he gulped. _

"_Gabi?" his feather light voice cracked._

_No sooner had the word quietly left his mouth, he found himself with a set of plump lips covering his. He froze, aching so badly for her taste, her touch, the very feel of her flesh against his. But was it too fast? Would she break if he let her feel his need for her? Was it too much?_

_Feeling his anguish as if it were her own, she deepened the kiss, opening her mouth ever so slightly, inviting him in- coaxing his lips apart in a deliberate manner._

'_It's okay, Troy' her gentle caresses told him._

'_I don't want to hurt you…' his slow, cautious maelstroms replied._

_A sound of relieved pleasure bubbled from the back of his vocal chords as he responded to her warm tongue softly caressing against the smooth surface of his mouth._

_His fingers went to the buoyancy of raven curls, groping the tendrils firmly. Gabriella's palm rested against the rough stubble of his cheek._

_Passion swirled in a heated hurricane of lust._

_It would soon come…_

…_but not tonight._

_Leisurely, her semi-swollen lips left his, savoring the moment within his touch, coyly nipping at his bottom lip to which she felt his lips curve upwards in a tiny smile._

"_What was that for?" he murmured._

"_It was a thank you."_

"_For what?"_

"… _Everything."_

A harsh yell ripped Troy from the sweet memory.

"Cell phone off, Bolton! Hit the showers!" his coaches irate voice boomed across the gymnasium walls.

His head snapped up, confusion and hurt apparent in his grey-blue eyes. Knowing it was far better to accept the punishment and not talk back, he reached down to grab the water bottle resting on the ground between his feet and made his way toward the locker room.

Chad looked after his friend with guarded reserve. The realization that in their seventeen years of playing basketball alongside one another, never had he witnessed Troy being sent from practice early hit him full on.

* * *

Troy waited outside in the cold for Chad and the rest of the team to trickle out from the gymnasium. He'd contemplated walking back to his apartment, but the four mile distance was unmanageable in the bitter chill of the night and Chad was his ride home that evening.

Exchanging several mumbled goodbyes to various teammates, his best friend finally emerged from the double doors.

Their eyes locked and guilt pummeled though his soul. He'd let the team down. His guard was up and his mind was a disarrayed jumble of unexpressed hurt, fear, and denial. He was sinking, and wasn't quite sure how to find the surface.

"Hoops" Chad crisply greeted him.

"Hey look man…" Troy began.

"We need to talk."

"I've got to get to Gabriella's tonight."

"It wasn't a question Troy."

The weary twosome gravely made their way toward Chad's SUV. Once inside, he revved the engine to get some heat circulating throughout the indoor space and untied the red and blue do-rag from around his unruly curls.

Dragging a hand through the coarse hairs, he sighed audibly.

"Look man, tonight was just a fluke. I didn't get enough sleep last night and-"

Chad turned, a severe look of distaste embellishing his tired features.

"So now we're lying?"

"I'm not lying. I didn't go to bed last night until 2am!" he defensively shot back.

"So you went to bed late? You and I have been out until 4am, drunker than skunks only to deliver a fucking ass beating on the court later that same day. Forgive me if I call bullshit that you being tired is what's _really_ going on."

Troy clicked his gums in annoyance.

"Oh you want some more? Let's try this for size. Coach says you're not making grades."

"That's none of your business. He had _no_ right-"

"He had _every_ fucking right, I'm the co-captain! He pulled me aside tonight- basically wanted to rip _my_ head off for not noticing sooner! Hoops, you said you had this figured out. Coach says you asked him earlier if you could skip practice tomorrow. What the fuck kind of stunt is that man?"

Troy refused to answer.

"NCAA starts in four days! Where's your head at?"

"I've got to study."

"Study what?!"

"Every _fucking_ class!"

A disturbing silence fell over the car. The only sound comforting the two was the dull drone of the cars' exhaust.

"It should have never got this bad. You didn't get a B minus on that midterm last week did you."

"What midterm?" his brow furrowed, genuinely not recalling last weeks' fabrication.

"The BCOM test. Before we went to the Courier, you said you got a B minus. You lied didn't you?"

"Look man, you have _no_ idea what I'm going through."

"You say you're studying all the time."

"I _am_ studying."

"Studying _what_?"

Troy closed his eyes tightly knowing exactly what habits preoccupied his study time.

_Long forgotten discarded papers and an open textbook lay strewn across his desk._

_Troy sat upright in his bed, back against the headboard intensely reading the journal Gabriella had given him the day she was discharged from . _

_**September 21**__**st**__**, 2007**_

_**Earlier today I was driving to school and Bohemian Rhapsody came on the radio. I'd never really paid attention to the lyrics before. Most people usually perform their best air guitar and laugh at the familiar "Wayne's World" song. **_

_**But today, for no apparent reason I listened to the lyrics and they are eerie in the most beautiful of haunting ways;**_

"_**Is this the real life?**_

_**Is this just fantasy?**_

_**Caught in a landslide**_

_**No escape from reality**_

_**Open your eyes**_

_**Look up to the skies and see**_

_**I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy**_

_**Because I'm easy come, easy go**_

_**A little high, little low**_

_**Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me, to me"**_

_**Crazy how these words make so much sense to me, because nothing truly matters.**_

_The all too familiar stirrings of sadness overwhelmed his senses, clouded his vision with tears, and tugged harshly at his heartstrings. _

_She was filled with so much turmoil and he'd never noticed any of it._

_Night after night, he found himself wrapped in a blanket of self loathing and candid refute of years worth of not understanding the one person he misjudged knowing best._

Chad cleared his throat, snapping Troy from his daydream and lowered his voice to highlight the severity of the conversation.

"I'm going to be dead honest with you right now. As your best friend… as fucking _brothers_, I won't bullshit with you anymore."

"Straight up? Coach is giving you one more chance. _One_. You fuck it up and you're benched the rest of the season, no questions asked. Now I know right now you might want to get shitty with me and say you don't care, but think about it Hoops. You get benched and there goes your scholarship. Coach benches you and the team is fucked. More importantly, the draft is a no go if you can't submit full final season stats."

Troy's chest heaved up and down with the oppression of truth weighing upon him.

"I tried my best last week to talk some sense into you. You're moping around, you don't study- god knows what you're doing all those hours at the library and staying awake late. You are getting ready to go somewhere I can't follow, Hoops-" his voice broke at this.

He was begging his friend to not let it all go to waste. He'd tried reasoning with him to no avail. Tough love only worked momentarily. The only other thing left was to virtually beg him to find a way to focus.

"I'll get it together Chad. Seriously" he announced, giving him a look of undoubtedly truthful resolve, "But right now, I need to head home, all right?"

Chad sighed, somehow doubting he'd really made any headway.

"I'll get it straight" Troy called out to no one in particular.

Backing out of the parking lot, the two made a silent trip back towards their homes.

* * *

**Later that evening…**

"Chad!" Taylor yelled from the kitchen.

"Yeah?" he shouted back.

"Well don't just shout, come here for a minute!" she huffed, placing a hand on her hip while stirring the contents of the pot.

"Yes dear?" he cheekily replied, appearing from around the corner.

"Don't yes dear me" she warned.

"Or else?"

"That's not something you want to find out."

"Maybe it is. Would it involve handcuffs or punishment of some sort?" he winked.

Rolling her eyes, she extended forth a helping of soup.

A wide grin spread across his face as he swallowed the steamy broth.

"My baby knows how to cook!" he smiled in pride.

"Oh shush. Does it need anything else?"

"Nope, it's perfectly edible as is."

"Good. It should be ready in about ten minutes. I can't stay tonight, because-"

"You're not staying?" he pouted.

"Chad, I told you all last week and reminded you yesterday that I have an essay due tomorrow."

"You can use my computer here."

"As tempting as that may be, I've got to go home tonight."

"I'll even change my desktop to something more girly" he offered.

"You'll risk defacing your wallpaper to something other than Angelina Jolie for little ole' me?" she mockingly guffawed.

"That's _Miss_ Saint Angelina, and yes, I would do that for you."

"Provoking, but I'm going to have to take a rain check on that one."

"Your loss" he shrugged, making his way back toward the bedroom. He paused, a nagging thought causing him to turn back around.

"Hey, Tay?"

She noticed the fluctuation in his voice. The usual deep baritone sound echoed that more like a little boy scared to admit he'd done something wrong.

"What's up?" she asked nonchalantly, not wanting to incorrectly jump to conclusions that anything was the matter.

"Something's up with Troy…" he trailed off.

"You might want to re-phrase that statement" she joked, trying to keep the air light.

"No seriously Tay, something's… off with him lately. Coach is gonna bench him."

"For what?!" she practically screeched.

"Grades…"

"He studies _all_ the time. Even Gabriella told me when he's over at her place he's always lugging around his textbooks."

"I know! I told him tonight-"

"You talked to him about all this?"

"Well, yeah."

"What'd he say?"

"Just that he's studying hard, that he'll figure it all out…" he sighed, "I'm worried Tay. I've played ball with him for seventeen years and we've been best friends even longer. I've never seen him like this."

"Can you talk to his dad?"

"Troy's dad would fly here and personally deliver an ass whooping on him. Besides, he'd feel like, betrayed or whatever if I did that. It's not my place."

"It _is_ your place. You are his best friend and if this is about the team it's most certainly your business. He knows getting benched can seriously jeopardize the draft, right?"

"Baby, I told him all that. It's like he wasn't listening, or half listening. I don't know, it was weird."

She continued stirring the soup.

"It can't be easy what he's going through. I mean, he's the one who found her, Chad. He had to see-"she fought against a sob tossing back her head to gather her emotions, "no matter what, we'll never know how he _really_ feels about it all. He was all alone that night."

For several moments the two did not utter a word. With one last stir of the ladle, Taylor lowered the heat,

"It's on low. Don't leave the pot on the burner all night."

"Yes mommy."

She gave a halfhearted smile, thankful for the attempt at lightheartedness but feeling uneasy about the information Chad had just equipped her with.

Stalking forward, he wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her close so their foreheads rested against one another.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, this essay is just wrecking my brain."

"Troy's gonna be okay, isn't he?" Chad asked in a hopeful tone, the hint of the little boy from earlier returning to his voice.

"Yeah. He's Troy" she offered, wanting to remain optimistic for the both of them.

"Yeah..."

After exchanging a good night kiss and walking her out to the parking lot, Chad gave one last wave before heading into his apartment, reminding himself to immediately turn off the burner before he actually forgot.

* * *

Once inside her car, Taylor waited for the heater to blast out the welcome gust of warmth before rummaging around her purse for her cell phone. Quickly retrieving her ear piece, she hit speed-dial of the familiar digits and waited.

It was nearing 10:45pm in New York City and the lithe young blond had just stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered with her long damp hair draped across her back. She was wrapped snuggly in a cozy short black satin robe with monogrammed fuchsia piping and lettering.

Looping the belt to sling low across her hips, lightly padding across the boudoir accented with various black and magenta vases, floral pop art, and decadent chandelier lighting, her feet sinking into the plush cream carpet. She approached the expansive floor to ceiling windows, brown eyes looking out across the skyline, roving over the soft swaying trees of Central Park covered in a thick blanket of pure white snow and scanned further out toward Fifth Avenue.

She mulled over a brief mental note to drop by the design flagship store after work tomorrow, punching the memo into her pristine iPhone.

Tossing the gadget onto the edge of the bed's lush black down comforter, her focus once more became engrossed by the city lights.

Her phone lit up, the jubilant tune of "Fashion" by David Bowie ringing across the bedroom causing the tiny dog in the corner to shift uncomfortably in his sleep.

She peered over, smirking joylessly.

"Speak of the devil" she said aloud before pressing the 'talk' button with a swift jab of her manicured finger.

"Hey, girl."

"McKessie" she curtly replied.

On the other end Taylor rolled her eyes, noting the sole use of her last name, a tell tale characteristic of the girl's displeasure she'd exhibited since high school.

"Sharpay I know that tone- but before you start in on me…"

"Ohh-hooo!" she whooped, "That's rich seeing as I don't hear from my friends for days on end."

"I just talked to you on Sunday."

"That was almost _four_ days ago."

"Things have been hectic" she sighed.

Another sort of displeased sound came through the receiver.

"How have you been doing?"

"You know…" her disinterested tone airily replied, "So what brings this joyous call?" the girl waved a hand in front of her.

"Are you upset?"

"I get the most unsettling call of my life last week. You had _no_ details, _no_ prognosis, no _nothing_!" her voice was reaching an alarming decibel causing Taylor to wince slightly at the pitch.

"Ryan just about had a meltdown and there's no reply to my emails or text messages. I haven't even talked to Gabriella, or Troy for that matter, and you want to ask me am I _upset_? Upset does not begin to skim the surface of how I-"

"Shar, Troy needs us."

Those three words 'Troy needs us' put the situation into retrospect. It cleared the haze, the misplaced anger, the not so well hidden selfishness which covered the genuine hurt and concern underlying her perfect-seeming exterior. It made things real.

She snapped upright, having been leaning against her window and marched over to her closet, flopping an oversize Louis Vuitton duffle bag across the bed.

"How soon do you need me there?"

"Shar, you don't have to fly out here. It's the middle of the holidays and you've got work and Boi to take care of."

"All that stuff is covered and Boi can stay with Ryan, he loves him."

Taylor hid a snort, knowing good and well Ryan had and would never _like_ Boi. This fact seemed oblivious only to his twin sister.

"Are you sure?"

"I can probably have a flight booked first thing out Saturday morning. Who shall I stay with?"

"Well I-"

"We'll figure out the details later. I'll email you my itinerary tomorrow morning."

"Shar?"

"Yes?"

"Have I ever told you you're kind of amazing?" a smiling Taylor declared, proud that the meaningful friendships held such a strong bond now; that if one of their own needed them, a call to arms of sorts went unchallenged and unquestioned.

"Don't you forget- and next time, don't take so long to tell me, just spit it out."

Taylor chuckled, forgetting how much she missed the girls' antics.

"I'll try to remember that next time."

* * *

**AN:** Thanks for your patience. Let me know what you think of the developments thus far and look for another chapter posted by Tuesday morning. I am going home for the holidays and want to get out at least one more chapter until then. xo


	10. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer: All lyrics used belong to John Mayer**_

_**Have no fear for giving in  
Have no fear for giving over  
You'd better know that in the end  
Its better to say too much  
Then never say what you need to say again**_

_**Even if your hands are shaking  
And your faith is broken  
Even as the eyes are closing  
Do it with a heart wide open**_

_**Say what you need to say**_

_**-John Mayer "Say"**_

* * *

A blurry-eyed Troy stood amongst the crowd gathered at baggage claim at Chicago O'Hare airport. He'd received a call from Taylor the previous day indicating Sharpay's flight touched down in Illinois at 8:10am (an ungodly hour in his mind) and volunteered to pick her up.

As he struggled to keep his eyes open, faltering every now and again jerking himself upright with a startle, his mind began to wonder to preoccupy the time.

Meanwhile on the arriving flight, Sharpay arose from her first class cabin chair, nodding approvingly at a handsome looking business man who offered to lower her rolling bag from the overhead compartment bin.

"Fabulous, thank you!" she beamed, quickly de-boarding the plane and heading into the terminal area.

Her ebony heels clacked loudly, a warning sound to the pedestrians ahead as the throng of groggy early morning travelers shuffled out of the sashaying blonds' path allowing her to fluidly waltz down the corridor, much to her delight.

Entering the baggage claim level and scouring the grounds for her carousel number she approached a familiar, tired looking shaggy haired man and watched in slight amusement as his head bobbed downwards, his chin coming to rest gently upon his upper chest.

"Hi Troy!" she merrily chirped, alerting the man to her presence. His head shot upwards, alarm permeating his pupils before the cloudy blue focused on the figure before him, a lazy smile soon melting his guarded demeanor.

The thing with Sharpay and Troy spawning since their first meeting was a simple truth that they bickered. It's what they did. He knew exactly which buttons to push and just how far to tease to have her up in arms and vice versa. It was a sibling-like squabbling they had formed with one another. That was somewhat the core of their friendship which kept things interesting; the anticipation of the other's witty one liners and practicing sharpening their reaction time to be faster, smarter, and funnier.

In that moment their eyes met, and instantaneously a flurry of fare-colored tendrils lightly whipped against his face surprising him a bit but not before he'd already wrapped both arms instinctively around the girl, sensing the urgency in her touch.

No wise cracks, no words, no jokes… it was a genuine moment for the two, showcasing that deep down, no matter the charade they kept up- they cared and could exhibit civility.

With one final reassuring pat on the back, Sharpay pulled away, a coy grin meeting his mischievous smile.

"You _would_ wear heels to a morning flight."

"The definition of lazy is alive and well in falling asleep in a crowded airport. That's got to be some kind of record."

"I parked in the garage" Troy indicated with a nod of his head, his tone full of withheld mirth as he grabbed a hold of her lone logo embossed suitcase.

Sharpay gave a disapproving frown.

"What?"

"I have to wait for my other bags" she deadpanned, "…And for the record; I wore UGG's on the plane."

She playfully bumped shoulders with him before squeezing by those who were already waiting to search for her bags to come sliding down the onramp.

"Troy!" she waved, flagging him to join her up front, oblivious to the withering side glances cast in her direction.

Fifteen minutes, four Louis Vuitton duffle bags, and two barely missed confrontations later the two made their way toward the garage, a chattering excitement taking over the girl.

"I booked a room at the Double Tree. I figured maybe you guys could all come over tonight for dinner and a get together?"

"Maybe…" he glanced over noting the slight look of hurt that darkened her face, quickly adding that "I think it sounds great, I just meant we'll have to see how she feels."

Sharpay stiffened in her chair, having just fastened her seat belt at the mention of 'she'. Exhaling slowly, she carefully chose the next set of words.

"How is she?" she quietly asked.

"Honestly? Better. It was pretty rough on everyone right after. She's talking more now. Taylor's great- she's there almost every day when I'm in class or at practice."

"…that's good."

A painfully awkward silence poisoned the air.

"You want to go see her?" Troy quietly offered.

Sharpay hesitated. Of course she wanted to see her. There was no doubt she wanted to survey the situation with her own eyes and hopefully develop a better sense of what was happening. Maybe then she'd be able to make sense of everything.

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah, Gabriella was really excited to hear you were coming out here."

They discussed family, work, school, and all the many escapades within their lives the past two years the duration of the drive to Gabriella's apartment.

The vehicle began to slow and Sharpay could feel the nervous emotions resurfacing in the pit of her stomach. Mindful of the patches of ice caked across the sidewalk and walkway, she and Troy made their way to the front door, which he unlocked with a spare set of keys.

"Gabi?" he called into the dim lit room. It was still quite early, the morning rays of sunshine just beginning to wash over the living room, and she very well may still have been fast asleep.

"Baby?"

"Yeah, I'm in here" a soft voice floated from the depths of the dark bedroom.

"Hold on just a sec-"Troy indicated, slipping into the bedroom.

Sharpay set down her heavy Fendi purse, opening the flap latch and setting down several elaborately wrapped boxes onto the kitchen countertop.

Troy returned after a moment.

"Can I-?" she began.

"Yeah, sure. I think she just woke up but you're free to go in there" he assured.

Lifting the various boxes into her arms, ignoring the sigh of disdain from Troy, she side-stepped him and tiptoed into the room.

"Ohmygosh" an excited, albeit exhausted Gabriella beamed.

"Hey you" Sharpay replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. She leaned over, the two girls embracing one another for what felt like an eternity.

Sharpay wasn't quite sure what to do. Gabriella seemed fine. Besides some strategic dark rimmed splotches kissing the undersides of her eyelids and a disheveled appearance, she looked like the same young woman. She found this to be one of the hardest truths which was that she_ looked_ fine.

Gabriella's fingers dug deeper into her sides. She was channeling so much into the embrace.

_'Thank you for coming, I'm sorry, Things are so scary now, thank you for being my friend…'_

Sharpay felt the tightening of her grip and held on. She felt a sting in the backs of her eyes signaling the onset of tears about to come. She squeezed her eyes shut to ward back the overflow of emotions. She wanted to be strong- no, she _needed_ to be strong for her.

The two pulled apart and Gabriella's eyes bore into Sharpay's amber gaze.

There was an abundance of questions and explanations, worries, tirades, and troubles to be discussed; but that could all be hashed out another day, another afternoon, another time.

Sharpay smiled smugly, glancing in the direction of the scattered gift boxes.

"I come bearing gifts."

Gabriella knew before she'd said anything that it was her way of showing she cared.

"Which one do you want me to open first?"

"This one" she snatched up the largest of the pink boxes, placing the slightly heavy contents into the girl's lap adding, "I think you'll love it- it's fabulous."

Gabriella delicately unwrapped the shiny pink paper, glancing up at Sharpay with discerned eyes upon revealing the contents.

"Sharpay…"

"Just open it" she finished, holding up a hand to halt any further protests.

She felt the sides of her mouth tugging upwards into a genuine smile as she lifted the large glass bottle out of the box.

"Chance is my favorite scent" she cooed.

"I thought you'd think it was fabulous" Sharpay conquered, simultaneously dumping another parcel into her lap.

"Oh my..." Gabriella sighed, lifting the feather light soft white silk scarf from the thin packaging. The heavenly material slid between her fingers, a grin permeating her features as the conjoined C's slid across her thumb and pointer finger.

"This is gorgeous, Shar. Seriously."

Quickly acknowledging her words with a nod of her head, one more gift was bestowed upon the petite brunette.

This package was simply a black felt box which her slender fingers effortlessly flipped open.

Her mouth pursed, making a thin line and she stared at the girl, shaking her head in disbelief.

Sharpay noticed the sparkling hints of moisture gathering in the corners of her friends' eyes and smiled.

"I hope this means you love it."

Gabriella reached down into the box, lifting the iridescent pearl bracelet up to the small light emitting from her nightstand lamp. The tiny charms of intertwined 'C' logos twinkled.

"It's too much" she plainly stated.

"It's already been custom ordered and flown in from France. I can't return it."

"I don't know what to say."

"Tell me you have the perfect outfit to pair it with tonight for dinner on me at the hotel."

Her gaze caught that of the glittering bracelet once more. She knew Sharpay worked in PR for Chanel but nonetheless, the extravagant gifts were beyond her financial means and she felt weary accepting them so willingly.

"You're about to ask me again if it's okay. Gabriella, I practically run the New York offices, if it were a problem, well, I'd most likely get it anyways," Gabriella chuckled at this, "and like I said- just tell me there's a stunning dress to go with this bracelet and I'll be happy."

"There is this Calvin Klein number I've wanted to wear for weeks..."

"See? Totally content."

"I have new heels to break in too."

Sharpay leaned over, hugging her once more and speaking into her dark curls, "That's my girl."

* * *

**Later that evening…**

Troy gently held Gabriella's small hand in his as they made their way through the hotel lobby. He'd trained himself to keep his eyes up back in his teens as Gabriella's ample chest tended to offer more skin than she sometimes garnered revealing. But tonight, his eyes lovingly roved over her figure, taking in the sight of her long raven curls cascading down her back, tucked and pinned neatly on both sides of her head just beneath her ears with bobby pins to keep the tendrils off her round face.

Although solid and dark colored, her navy blue sleeveless frock hugged her hips in the most fantastic display of womanly curves she possessed. The low scoop cut delved toward her negligee, and the high waisted skirt portion hit just below her bosom, the shiny material gliding over her midsection with the garment ending mid-thigh. She donned a pair of all over lace patterned tights, the material mimicking a painstaking floral tattoo blossoming across her toned leg muscles. Her look was completed with two accessories, a new pair of black patent leather round, close-toe heels and the Chanel bracelet Sharpay had given her earlier.

Troy was a bit more casual, but still put together clad in a loose pair of black slacks, an un-tucked white dress shirt rolled up to his forearms with the last and first two buttons unfastened, a sleek silver Timex watch his dad had given him at Christmas, and black dress shoes. His hair had been haphazardly brushed back with a quick application of hair gel and non-fuss finger styling. The sandy brown locks threatened to tumble back into his line of vision, but he'd used enough product to keep the shaggy strands at bay.

The elevator lit up and the two stepped into the gold mirrored compartment.

"You look beautiful, baby" he whispered.

She smiled in his direction, absentmindedly pulling at her skirt, fearing it was too formal given his slightly casual attire and the fact that they were just going to eat dinner amongst good friends in a hotel room.

Upon arriving at the suite, she couldn't have been more wrong about feeling overdressed as a positively giddy Sharpay flung open the doors.

"Hi guys!" she hummed in a sing-song voice, ushering them in.

The two had stayed in plenty of hotel rooms on various vacations and trips during the course of the relationship, but tonight's set up floored them.

Lavish arrangements of fresh white orchids littered every visible counter-top, the foyer area alone boasted decadent black marble floors, extending throughout the entire two story suite, interchanging between offerings of dark cherry wood.

The blinds had all been drawn open and the Chicago skyline glistened in the night air providing an almost cinema-like backdrop.

Trays of shrimp cocktail, mini quiche, tuna tartar, and bruschetta were arranged across an expansive all white dining room table tucked into the corner of the room. The latest sounds of radio friendly music vibrated all around them from the built-in speaker system.

Flat screen tv's anchored to literally each wall displaying zen-like images of changing nature scenes, the lights had been dimmed to different degrees in each room, the bar area and the living room being the brightest of rooms highlighted, and a winding staircase led to Sharpay's bedroom and master bathroom.

The main floor included but was not limited to a guest bedroom and bathroom, living room, bar, sitting room, and a game room adjacent to the obscured sitting lounge.

Gabriella squeezed Troy's hand, her jaw-dropping expression matching his as they surveyed the room, taking in all the beautiful arrangements.

"_Damn _Shar. You said it was just dinner and hanging out…" Troy gushed.

"What? It is" she wrinkled her nose, looking around in confusement at whatever deemed the situation to be anything more than what she'd expressed it would be.

"This looks absolutely breathtaking" Gabriella stepped forward, accepting a beacon of sparkling water that seemed to materialize out of nowhere in Sharpay's extended hand.

"Bolton, bars' over there" Sharpay waved with her hand.

"What, I can't have a glass of water too?" he complained.

At that moment, Chad and Taylor returned from their quick investigation of the balcony outlooking downtown.

Taylor immediately rushed to Gabriella's side, quickly greeting Troy with a warm "hi!" before hugging her best friend.

"Hoops! This place has a fully stoked bar! There's like _ten _different beers in the fridge!" Chad exclaimed.

"To the bar…" Troy pointed toward the area, receiving a knowing smirk from Sharpay.

The girls admired one another's dresses.

"You look fierce" Sharpay noted, causing Gabriella to blush slightly.

"Thanks… I really like yours too."

Sharpay shrugged, looking down at the lavender pink empire waist cocktail dress. The pleated chiffon mini skirt billowed out away from her thin frame and the corset-like strapless top impressed with an ornate design created from various yellow and bronzy- toned hand-encrusted crystals.

"Oh, this thing? I got it for the Coco Met exhibit opening last summer" her hand held out the skirt material, allowing it to drop carelessly back against her waist, unimpressed with repeating an outfit, even if it was for an evening indoors.

Taylor joyfully did a twirl, at the insistence of Sharpay to display her black cotton sheath number, complete with front button detail going up the entire middle of the dress and ending at the puckered piping of the lapelled top. Her festive red heels completed the look.

Each girl had taken at least an hour getting ready- not truly needing much more than the promise of dinner away from their respective homes to dress to the nines and revel in their festive seasonal attire.

Chad's outfit mimicked Troy's, the only slight difference being the black and white patterned dress shirt and the presence of a skinny black tie (courtesy of Taylor) whereas Troy hadn't felt like dealing with the restricting accessory, deeming ties impractical and rather silly. Gabriella had long ago quit trying to show Troy that ties could be fashionably dapper after a rather disastrous debacle at their junior prom where he'd literally almost strangled himself on accident after he'd absentmindedly closed his tie in the door of the slowly pulling away limo they'd all chipped in to transport them to the off-campus venue.

Red faced, understandably a little freaked out, and swearing, he'd sworn off ties on the spot.

Sharpay tottered around, filling everyone's glasses, making sure no one's drink went empty. They'd all made their way onto the white leather couches and were laughing heartily over memories of their past.

"Oh my god and Taylor was ready to pounce on you for making us all sign up for that play!" Chad cackled.

"Hey! I stick by my convictions. We planned the perfect prom and had a good time" Gabriella pouted.

Troy gave her a reassuring pat across her hand, reveling in the fact that she seemed to be at ease and easily partaking in the conversation.

She reached over, popping another bit of shrimp into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"I'm still pissed. I can't believe Julliard actually wanted _this _one" Sharpay gestured toward Troy,

"Ouch… c'mon!" he defended.

"You know you're worthless. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise? If I hadn't been rejected from Julliard, I wouldn't have said yes to Parson's, which means I wouldn't have interned for Chanel, which means I never would have been offered my job, which means I wouldn't…" she droned on.

"…continue to be able to give your friends ridiculously overpriced pieces of jewelry like that?" Chad jokingly offered pointing at Taylor's extended hand, clad in a classic Chanel tennis bracelet Sharpay had given her two Easter's ago, which was in mid-sip of her goblet of champagne.

Sharpay rolled her eyes, but laughed with good nature, exclaiming "Oh! Dinner's here!" and clamoring over Chad's extended legs as the doorbell to her suite rang.

"I could eat an entire horse…" Chad announced, rubbing his hands together as the wait staff set out about a dozen various silver covered plates amongst the already neatly arranged dining room flatware.

After the waiters had been properly tipped and thanked for their services, the group settled into their chairs, ogling over the various entrée dishes as they lifted the lids.

"Sharpay, this looks _incredible_!" Taylor cried, revealing a half rack of lamb chops.

"Thanks for tonight" Gabriella smiled.

"Yeah, thanks Evans this is off the chain, yo!" Chad extended a fist toward Troy who reciprocated the hand pound while earning himself a side glance of disapproval at the poor choice in grammar from Taylor.

Troy discretely placed a hand upon Gabriella's toned thigh, lovingly squeezing at the flesh. She looked down and glanced up at him- allowing for Troy to see the faintest hint of a returned glimmer in her eye.

With offerings of authentic spaghetti Bolognese, filet Diane, mushroom risotto, twice baked salmon, black truffle rib eye, five cheese ravioli in butternut sauce, and other selections the friends selected their choice of entrée, ravenously digging into the piping hot fare.

"Mmmm, I could _so_ get used to this" Taylor practically moaned, spearing another helping of oven russet potatoes gratin with her fork.

"I. Love. Meat." Chad exaggeratedly expressed between large bites of rib eye.

Troy was silent, his full concentration resting completely upon the large lobster tail before him as he dipped another piece of flaky white meat into a bowl of melted butter.

Gabriella looped several long strands of spaghetti within her fork, slowly enjoying all the flavorful tastes of robust Italian seasoning.

Sharpay looked on, content that the evening was a hit. She took another swig from her champagne flute, allowing the bubbles to dance across her taste buds. Many drinks had been poured throughout the course of the evening and although she was extremely candid without the aid of alcohol, a few cocktails had loosened her tongue a bit. Although far from drunk, it was safe to say she was slightly tipsy.

"So Ryan says hello, Gabriella. He wants you to give him a call when you get some free time" she'd promised her brother to pass along the message and wanted to make sure she delivered good on her word.

"How is Ryan?" Gabriella asked, a nostalgic look gracing her features.

"He's good. I hardly see him now with all the rehearsals, but I was there opening night- Broadway has been waiting for his arrival" she proudly spoke on behalf of her younger (by one minute and six seconds, to be exact) sibling.

"I'd love to visit and see his show. Maybe next year" she hopefully mumbled.

"Why not in the next month or two?"

Gabriella glanced at Troy who had been vaguely following the conversation, still wrapped up in his meal. At this, he offered up an answer.

"Well, I'm sure Gabriella and I will get there as soon as we get a chance, right babe?"

Gabriella nodded.

"Oh, well I just figured she'd have time sooner than later…"

"Meaning?" Troy asked, chewing through the last bit of seafood on his plate.

"Meaning nothing."

Taylor shifted uncomfortably, clearing her throat to begin a new topic of discussion.

"So Shar, will you be back out here for graduation?"

"Which ones?"

"Ours?" Taylor lightly chuckled, casting side glances at her friends at Sharpay's change in behavior.

"Well, there's theirs," she made a motion toward Chad and Troy, "yours" she nodded toward Taylor, "and Gabriella's, right?"

"Gabriella's on leave of absence" Troy voiced.

"Oh?" Sharpay cocked a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"It's just for the rest of this semester. I'll be back in the spring" Gabriella provided.

"What do you plan on doing during your…" Sharpay looked to the ceiling, exaggeratedly thinking, "time off" she finished.

A nervous bundle of energy swept over the room. Troy's eyes darkened as his jaw set in a firm grip. Chad suddenly became quite engrossed with his utensils and Taylor, being genuinely shocked, looked on with wide eyes.

It was Gabriella who remained calm.

"I don't know, find myself or whatever it is you're supposed to do after this sort of thing" Gabriella shrugged. It was an honest answer for a question she truly hadn't asked herself up to this point.

"This sort of _thing_?" Sharpay scoffed.

"Sharpay…" Taylor desperately tried to reason.

"What?" she put up both hands, waiting for one of the four to provide some sort of response.

"So this is what we're doing now?" her annoyed voice escalated.

"I'm not really sure what you're getting at Shar. We're not _doing_ anything" Chad expressed.

"Funny Chad, because for the first time like, _ever_, I'm finding myself in the same predicament as you" the blond plainly stated. With a quick swig of her sparkling water, she leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table and setting her chin upon her clasped hands.

"I don't hear from you guys for weeks…"

Taylor went to open her mouth in protest.

"-oh, please save me long winded explanations and excuses. I get it; life happens, you get busy. I think being head of public relations for one of the longest standing couture design houses makes me a near fucking _expert_ on the definition of 'busy. Regardless, I hear from _none _of you. That is until McKessie here", she waved a hand in the direction of the woman, "calls to let me know about, well, as you like to call it," she stared pointedly into Gabriella's brown orbs, " 'this sort of _thing_.' After talking to everyone; Martha, Kelsi, even Jason for God's sakes, it's pretty clear we all got a heavily edited version of what happened."

Four sets of guilty eyes were downcast.

"So now I'm here and we're avoiding the colossal, _HUGE_, pink elephant in the room."

Her harshly glaring eyes moved from each of the individuals at the table.

"Suicide" she boldly declared.

"God _damnit _Sharpay!" Troy roared, pounding his fists against the table causing several dishes to rattle and knocking over his beer glass.

Gabriella reflexively caught hold of the toppled stemware and dabbed quietly at the pristine white hard surface.

"How are you guys ever going to start figuring things out if you won't even say it?!" Sharpay yelled.

"It's not that we don't care" Chad attempted.

A bitter laugh from the blond cut him off. "You guys are cowards. And _this_" she made a circular motion with her index finger indicating she meant the entire evening and situation they found themselves in, "is bullshit."

"Acting like attempted suicide is some flu bug is ridiculous."

"Fuck you" Troy spat in a seething whisper.

"Ohhh no. Fuck _you_, Bolton."

"C'mon Shar, you're being pretty irrational here" Taylor argued.

She vaguely heard the garbled sound of words passing through her closed ears. Angrily, she pushed her chair back and flung the white napkin resting upon her lap onto the half eaten plate of food. Snatching up both her cell phone and jacket strewn across the back of her chair she stomped off toward the sliding glass door, heels clicking loudly. With two distinct slams, she opened then threw shut the door.

A shell-shocked group of friends remained seated at the table. The room felt at least ten degrees warmer given the rise in emotions. Gabriella finally stopped dabbing at the already dry counter with her dinner napkin.

Instinctively she was on her feet, pushing back her chair so quickly it toppled over, causing Taylor to jump in alarm, clutching at her chest at the prominent boom of the chair back connecting with the floor.

"What the…" Chad questioned aloud in virtual disbelief.

Without a jacket, the petite brunette rushed out into the freezing cold of the brisk Chicago night air.

Sharpay registered the opening of the door but didn't bother to turn around.

An alarmingly tight grip of a small hand had the girl turning round against her will in a flurry of inexplicable strength.

Gabriella's tear-stained eyes bore into the bitterness of a similar chocolaty shade of brown eyes.

The girls found themselves at a cross-road. Their first introduction years back had ended in judgmental glances at the other inside East High's corridors. They had standoffishly put up with the other for the sole sake of saving face. Neither wanted to be wrong. Both were headstrong. Somewhere along the way, genuine friendship blossomed and the two young adults now found themselves enraptured in a battle to understand the unfairness of life.

No one could have convinced them all those years ago they'd someday care to this degree in regards to the other.

Gabriella surged forward, tightly wrapping her hands around Sharpay's waist.

Devoid of reservation Sharpay clung just as tightly to her shaking shoulders as the girl openly cried against her shoulder.

The ice melted and she felt matching tears gliding down her cheeks.

"Thank you" Gabriella quietly hiccuped into her ear. Sharpay stiffened slightly, not quite understanding what she was being thanked for, "-I needed to hear that."

Troy stood at the doorway watching the girls, his arms crossed, but a warmness spreading throughout his chest as he, Chad, and Taylor witnessed the scene unfolding before them.

The two held their embrace for several minutes, not speaking a word and allowing the other to tighten their grip when needed.

Sharpay stood back, observing Gabriella's naked upper arms for the first time. Her teeth chattered slightly at a gust of wind.

"Let's get you inside" she offered, wrapping a side of her black pea coat around her nude shoulders.

"It's not on the menu but the hotel is known to have _amazing _whipped hot cocoa" she added.

Stepping back inside the hotel she glanced at Troy who gave a nod of forgiveness. Taylor was wiping at the corners of her eyes at the display of affection and Chad had his arm wrapped around her, subconsciously rubbing her back in a soothing gesture. He too nodded.

"You said something about dessert?" Chad inquired.

Taylor slapped his chest, reprieving him for the supposed lack of compassion.

Sharpay simply rolled her eyes and picked up the phone to continue their evening together.

* * *

**AN:** I know. Believe me, I _know_. Family time, Christmas, and an unexpected trip to the hospital (I'm fine) got in the way of updating as I wanted. :(

(Random side note: I'm currently on a plane finishing the final edits of this chapter and I'm in a cliché situation of being seated next to a sick passenger who is coughing in her sleep, breathing on me, and I'm _trying_ to keep my cool although I'm distracted by the slightly nauseating smell of her cough drops. Awesome.)


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